Broken Bad
by Carrie86
Summary: Set just after the end of season 5, focusing on Skyler, Flynn and Marie, but you also get to see what kind of send offs Walt and Hank had. Trigger warnings: trauma, anxiety, panic attack, mental illness, grief. Rated T because there is some description of mental health symptoms - not graphic as in self harm or anything, but it could be triggering for some people.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is set just after the end of season 5, and is primarily about what happens to Walt's family after he's gone. Trigger warnings: trauma, anxiety, panic attack, mental illness. And grief, obviously._

 _One of the best things about Breaking Bad is how well it is done on every level, from the photography to the thriller-like stories to the music to the shoot 'em up excitement to the chilling character psychology. My personal interest is mostly in the psychology, so if you love the show for the shoot 'em up stuff, you won't find any of that in here, sorry – but you will find some interesting deeper insights into the characters!_

...

When Skyler's alarm went off that morning, she felt like she hadn't even been asleep. This wasn't very unusual. Whether it happened or not on any given morning depending on how recent the latest criminal threat was in her mind.

Opening her eyes, she performed her now daily mood check. She felt alert, and not unhappy. Good, she thought. I'm not depressed. Am I anxious? There was definitely a tightness in her chest, which was also not unusual, but today it was just a mild tightness, which was surprising given that Walt had visited only the previous day. She had expected to be more upset. But instead, she had felt completely resigned. Her heart rate had barely even spiked when she saw him. But it had stood still, just as it had done every other time she had been separated from him, in all the 18 and a half years that she had known him.

As she swung her legs off the bed, she conceded that her heart rate was elevated, she definitely felt on edge, but not in an overwhelming way. Not nearly as badly as she had felt at other times. Good, she thought. Skyler went to her wardrobe and began pulling on her clothes.

Rippling up the stairs and through the thin walls, she heard her daughter's laughter, followed by her son saying, "That's right, Holly, i-if you don't finish your breakfast I'll...tickle you again!" This was followed by a pause and then more laughter, so Skyler guessed that Holly had not done what her brother said. "C-come on, hurry up!" he said, laughing himself. "I have to go to school!"

The stairs creaked as Skyler began to descend them. "Holly, M-Mom's coming! Quick, e-eat your breakfast before she gets here!"

The kids came into Skyler's view just in time for her to see Holly turn her head to look her brother in the eye and say, "No."

Flynn looked up at his mother. "Sh-she's a spoilt brat," he said.

"Oh, not related to you, is she?" quipped Skyler, kissing them both on the head and moving to the pantry to pull out a box of cereal. "Have you eaten?"

"Y-yeah. I just wanted Holly to finish s-so I could clear up before I left, but...I don't think I...have time now."

"That's fine, I'll do it. Thank you for getting her up and feeding her."

"No problem." Flynn stood up and put on his backpack. "You know how to call 911, r-right Mom?"

A shockwave rushed through Skyler's body and she braced herself on the bench. Flynn didn't seem to have noticed. "9-1-1," he said, looking her in the eye. "If you see him again, just call. It's...not hard. Don't...have a chat to him first, _just call_."

Skyler didn't respond. All she could think of was yes, it was hard.

Flynn came towards her and gave her a hug. "Are you ok?" he asked as he pulled away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Have a great day."

"See you later. Eat your…breakfast, Holly!"

The child squealed as her brother tickled her on his way past. Skyler watched him walk out the front door, but she wasn't really seeing him anymore. Her mind was somewhere else. She stood there holding an empty coffee cup until there was a knock at the door about 10 minutes later.

She opened the door to two police officers. This also was not unusual.

"Good morning, Mrs White," said the stouter of the two, an officer called Clayton she had dealt with before. "May we come in?"

This was less usual. Usually they just asked her to go with them to APD or the DEA.

"Sure," she replied, stepping back from the threshold and turning to check on Holly. Now that no-one was asking her to do it, she was now happily eating her oatmeal and paying no attention to the visitors.

Skyler turned back to find that both of the officers had now taken off their hats and Officer Clayton had sat down on her sofa. "Take a seat, Mrs White," he said.

"I'm good," Skyler replied, her heart rate rising.

"Well we're not sure if this is bad news or good news for you, but late last night the Albuquerque Police Department was called to a shootout on an industrial estate just north of the city. Upon arrival there, officers found the bodies of nine men. No survivors were found."

Skyler's heart was now beating out of her chest, but you couldn't tell it to look at her. Officer Clayton paused, and the silence was the longest of her life. Her jaw tightened and her thumb began to rub the knuckles of her left first.

"We believe that one of the bodies was your husband."

Blood pounding in her ears, Skyler felt herself sway, and she pushed her feet into the floor and her fingernails into her palms.

"Officers at the scene have identified him and some of the DEA officers had met him before, so."

"So you believe it is him or you know it is him?"

"Unless he had a twin," said the second officer, a smirk on his face.

"We know it's him," said Officer Clayton. "But we need you to formally identify him. You're the next of kin."

"H-he looks different now," Skyler's voice shook. "I saw him yesterday, he looks more like he used to look. But thinner, and-"

"We know that, ma'am. The officers at the scene identified him based on your physical description from yesterday."

Skyler nodded. She didn't know why she was denying it. Walt had been so close to death for so long. In so many ways.

"Are you able to come to the morgue with us now? Can someone look after the little one?"

Skyler was still nodding, the movement rippling through her entire body. "Yeah," she said. "I'm working later so my neighbour was going to take her."

"You might want to call your boss, then. Our instructions are to take you to the DEA after the morgue."

"OK. Sure."

Suddenly, Skyler was calm. She took Holly's empty bowl to the sink, washed it and set it on the dish rack. She wiped the baby seat and Holly's hands and face. She picked her up and walked calmly towards the door.

...

He looked clean, calm and peaceful. Harmless. Old. Thin. Sick. The age part melted away when Skyler looked at him, though. To her, this was Walt as he was. This was the man she'd fallen in love with. The man she'd married. Not the bald-headed monster that he became. Later on, she would learn that it's a normal part of grief for different memories of the person from different times to all hit you at once, particularly those from earlier times, making you feel as if almost no time has passed and nothing has changed.

"Is this your husband, ma'am?" asked Officer Clayton.

She shuffled towards him, then froze about two feet from the trolley, psychologically unable to move any further. Her whole body went rigid, her fists clenched, her eyes wide.

"Mrs White? Is this your husband?"

She felt her head nodding jerkily, not even sure if it was attached to her body anymore. She could feel her feet. They were firmly rooted to the spot. Her head floated somewhere above them. She felt disconnected from the world around her, as if her entire reality was behind a blanket or a screen. She'd felt this before, many times.

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but didn't fall. She couldn't stop looking at him. And she couldn't stop seeing the bright young scientist she'd met all those years ago in Los Alamos.

Suddenly the psychological bond pressing her feet into the floor broke, and Skyler turned and ran.

Completely unable to remember which way she had come, Skyler darted down corridor after corridor in a state rapidly approaching panic, until she found a set of stairs. She tore up them to the ground level and out a large set of double doors to the outside, almost crashing into a tree next to the parking lot. She pulled her cigarettes from her pocket, lit one, grabbed the tree trunk in her other arm and leaned on it heavily as she smoked.

The thinner of the two APD officers stepped out of his patrol car and looked at her. She didn't notice Officer Clayton appear a couple of minutes later from the other side of the building where the main entrance was, quite out of breath. His colleague caught his eye and pointed to her.

"Definitely him, then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Officer Clayton puffed.

"He was certainly a man who had a strong effect on people."

"Yeah."

"Even gets your ass running about on a Wednesday morning."

"Let's give her a minute."

"What's she doing?"

"Smoking."

"Looks like she's having a spiritual experience with that tree."

"That'll be the trauma. Sometimes it makes you wanna curl up in a ball, grab things, hug things. Bury your face in things, bury your whole body in things. Curl up on things."

"She going to be capable of doing an interview?"

Officer Clayton shrugged. "That's the DEA's problem."

"Why do we have to do all the shit jobs for them?"

"They're pretty busy right now."

"They found a meth lab the size of a warehouse, a stack of cash and nine bodies, why can't we help with that? This is so boring, man. Waiting for a crazy lady to let go of a tree? What is this shit?"

"Why didn't you come inside and see Heisenberg's dead body with me, then?"

"Oh no, man, I don't look at bodies on slabs. Bodies on slabs are the creepiest shit."

"And you a cop?"

"I don't mind other dead bodies, just not ones on slabs. It's the location and the way they're all laid out like that. Eugh. So what'd he look like?"

Officer Clayton shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Not at all what I expected."

...

"Did he say who they were?"

"No."

"I don't mean their names, just anything at all he used to describe them, did he say 'the guys' or 'the gang' or anything, any words that he used."

"'The men'. He called them the men who stole his money."

"You reported to Agent Castellanos yesterday that Mr White did not tell you where he was going but that he said the police would be coming to him."

"Yeah."

"Did he say anything more specific about the place or the men?" Agent Martinez's hands flew up in frustration.

Skyler shook her head slowly. "No."

"Alright," said ASAC Hoffman. "Stop. Let's rewind. Mrs White, starting from when he first arrived in your apartment, tell me every single thing that he said."


	2. Chapter 2

Marie hadn't been sure if she should go to work or not that day. She wanted to keep busy, and part of her wanted to keep the hell away from Walt because she was scared, but the part of her that was angry and indignant won over. Along with the part that just wanted to know what the hell was going on at all times. She couldn't keep an eye on the news if she was at work. And if he did show up, she sure as hell wanted to give him a piece of her mind.

The 8am news showed nothing other than a repeat of the previous night's news footage with a picture of Walt with hair and a request to the public to keep an eye out for him and to look, not approach.

At 9 o'clock, Marie was mopping the floor in the bathroom and she almost missed it. Dropping the mop, she skidded along the corridor to the living room door. "... reports have just come in of multiple shots fired last night in the vicinity of Garden Park Industrial Estate. One witness reported hearing the sound of a machine gun. APD have confirmed that officers attended the scene, but declined to provide any further information.

"There has been a fatal accident on the i40 just west of To'hajiilee. At approximately 8:15 this morning, a Ford truck collided with-"

"What about Walt?" Marie yelled at the TV. "He is _in_ town, you're not even going to mention him?"

...

Agent Martinez slowly fixed photographs of the eight gang members that were found with Walter White to the DEA office pin board. He rubbed his hands over his eyes. Detective Tim Roberts sat in a corner drinking coffee. The other desks in the office were empty. Janice, the secretary, appeared in the doorway. She was out of breath. "Ramey's here," she said.

Martinez straightened his posture, cracked his neck and turned towards the door as his boss, ASAC Hoffman, and big boss, ASAC Ramey, walked in. "Agent Martinez," said Ramey, stepping forward and shaking his hand. "Sorry to leave you here alone so long, this is the worst possible day to have a car accident on the i40. If he wasn't dead I'd say Walter White caused it just to piss me off."

"That's not affecting airport traffic, is it Sir?"

"No, we went from there straight out to the crime scene, I wanted to see this megalab for myself. It looks almost as big as Fring's. Why didn't we know about it?"

"We knew blue meth was back on the streets, and being made in pretty large quantities. We were closing in on it."

"Well according to the New Hampshire sheriffs, White was definitely up there for a while. Hut showed consistent occupation over the last 3 or 4 months. Very few prints other than his there."

ASAC Hoffman was shaking his head. "No, the blue meth on the streets here now is a couple points lower in purity than his. I don't think he's been making it."

Janice entered the room and handed a cup of coffee to Ramey.

"Janice, can you talk to CSI at Garden Park, see if they can hurry up on their fingerprint matching," said Hoffman.

"Sure." Janice left the room.

"I don't think we're going to find Walter White's fingerprints on that cook gear, I think we're going to find this guy's." He placed his hand over the picture of Jesse Pinkman on the pin board.

Martinez and Roberts nodded.

"Alright," said Ramey. "So what is Walter White and Jesse Pinkman's connection with a white power gang? These guys were small time thugs, how did they end up running a warehouse-sized lab making 97% pure meth?"

"Seems an odd move for White to get involved with them," said Martinez. "I know in the past he's jumped in with whoever could get him the best market and protection, but these guys would be more trouble than they're worth, wouldn't they? All brawn and no brains."

"No," said Roberts. "He didn't get involved with them for the drug business. He got involved with them for the killing business."

"Sorry, I don't think we've met," said Ramey, turning towards him and putting out his hand.

"Detective Tim Roberts," said Roberts, shaking it. "APD. I'm no expert in the drug business but I know quite a bit about the killing business in Albuquerque. These guys been connected to several murders within the last few years; we've never been able to get much on them, but the most notable case we are almost certain they were behind is the murder of the ten felons connected to Gustavo Fring who were killed in custody last year."

Ramey's eyebrows rose. "I see," he said. "Hired killers?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. I'd put money on the fact that White hired them to carry out those killings."

"Skyler White says that yesterday Walter said to her that he was going to meet 'the men who stole his money'," said Martinez.

"No no, he didn't tell her was going to meet them," interjected Hoffman. "We're just putting two and two together from the fact that he was found later that night wearing the same ballistic adornments as they were."

"Yeah," said Martinez. "Well anyway, he told her that these 'men' had stolen his money and that they had killed ASAC Schrader and Agent Gomez."

"He said that wasn't him?" asked Ramey.

"Yeah, well, of course he's going to say that. But we found six black barrels at Garden Park as well which, although far from full, contained an awful lot of cash."

"I'm betting that they find White's fingerprints on the cash, the car and almost nowhere else," said Hoffman.

"So the question," said Ramey, "is how did that come to happen? How did these eight guys come to steal Walter White's nest egg from the middle of the desert at To'hajiilee?"

"Well, it's simple," said Roberts. "White knew them because he'd hired them as contract killers a few months before. They came back on the scene because he hired them to kill someone else."

"Who?" asked Martinez.

"The other person White knew was in To'hajiilee that day. Pinkman."

The agents looked at Roberts in surprise, realisation dawning on their faces.

"Hank made White think that Pinkman had found his cash. White calls on the white power brothers here to help him out. Hank and Steve get in the way."

"How does that fit with Pinkman making blue meth for them now?"

Janice walked back into the office. "Here is an incomplete fingerprint report," she said, handing a document to Hoffman. "That's what they've got so far - they said to tell you they haven't yet dusted the clubroom or the cash. Also, the media unit have been on the phone again, they said things are starting to leak out, so as soon as we can put an official statement out, the better."

"Leak out how?" asked Hoffman

"She said several car loads of journalists rocked up at Garden Park. They're refusing to leave the perimeter."

"OK, can you get Skyler White to sign the name release form?"

"Certainly." Janice swept from the room again.

"She's still here?" asked Roberts.

"Willingly," Hoffman replied.

"You say jump, she says how high?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Hold on, Scott," said Martinez. "Are you saying we should tell the media that White is dead when we have nothing to show for it? No arrests, no raids?"

"Nine dead scumbags and 25 pounds of blue meth that won't be hitting the streets."

"Because White killed them and White stopped them!"

"Whoah whoah whoah, not to that level of detail!" said Ramey. "We'll just tell the public that nine bodies of known criminals were found, and release the names of those that we've identified whose families have signed the release form. I think it'll be quite a while before we figure out what really went on, and we don't need to say anything else until then."

...

When the interview room door opened, Skyler lifted her head from the table, but just barely. Her arms remained wrapped around her knees.

"Hi, Skyler," said Janice. "I just need you to sign this form. It authorises us to tell the media of your husband's passing."

Skyler's eyes widened, and she shook her head. "No," she said. "You're not telling anyone until I've told my son."

...

"The driver of a Ford F350 truck that lost control on the i40 west of To'hajiilee this morning is in a serious but stable condition in hospital, but three occupants of the two vehicles he ploughed into have died of their injuries. John and Martina Allenford were on their way to their son's graduation from New Mexico University, but they never made it. The names of the occupants of the third vehicle have not yet been released, but they are believed to be mother and daughter. The daughter is in a critical condition in Albuquerque Public Hospital, but her mother is believed to have died at the scene."

"Oh, that's so sad," said Marie, lifting a cup of coffee to her lips.

"In other news, the shooting at Garden Park Industrial Estate last night is being thoroughly investigated by both the Albuquerque Police and the Drug Enforcement Administration. It's believed that multiple bodies were found at the scene. Neither APD nor DEA have released any official information yet; we will bring you more news of this story as it arises."

Marie's coffee slopped onto the floor as she ran for the phone.


	3. Chapter 3

"She's what?" Hoffman looked at Janice in horror.

"She said she won't sign the form until she's had a chance to tell her son."

"Oh. Well can she sign it now and we promise not to send out the media release until after she's told him - where is he?"

"At school."

"OK, can we take her to the school now so she can tell him?"

"It's not as simple as that, Scott. I think she wants to tell him in her own time, maybe have a chance to get home before she's mobbed by the media…"

Hoffman sighed, rubbing his eyes. "APD brought her in this morning, right?" He looked at Martinez. "So she doesn't have her own transport?"

"Yeah," Martinez replied.

"Can we get the same officers back here to take her to the school?"

"I'll ask," said Janice. "Also, Marie Schrader is on line 2, can you talk to her?"

"Oh no no no no no. Tell her I'll call her back later. Don't tell her anything else - tell her to ring her sister if she wants to know what's happening!"

...

Marie was pacing up and down her kitchen. "Come on, Janice, give me something here, I'm jumping out of my skin!"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you anything, but ASAC Hoffman did suggest-"

"Did Walt kill these nine men? And if so, is he coming for me next, and my family? I need to know this!"

"I really can't-"

"Or, alternatively, is he one of the nine dead men? If that's the case, then I can relax. Then I can be angry instead of scared."

"There's no reason to be scared, Mrs Schrader, but you should call your sister. She knows what's happened."

"I already tried her, she wasn't answering!" Marie sighed. "Alright. I'll try her again."

...

ASAC Hoffman slipped gratefully into his office and sank into his chair. He leant forward to put his head in his hands, but before he could get there jumped up again when he heard a sharp knock on the door. It was Janice.

"Sorry Scott, APD said they can't spare anyone to take Skyler to the school."

"Oh," Scott replied. "Can we?"

Janet paused. "I suppose I could do it."

"No, I need you. Who else is gonna talk to Marie Schrader for me?"

"Speaking of which, she's down the hall."

"WHAT?"

"She said she couldn't find answers any other way and this was the only place she thought she'd feel safe."

Hoffman rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you get her to take Skyler to the school?"

"Oh! Perfect!" He jumped up. "Joe! Are you still here?"

"Yeah." Agent Martinez appeared at his office door.

"Do you have anything else you need to ask Skyler White today?"

"I don't think so. She doesn't know anything. If I try asking her about the body location coordinates again, she'll only demand to see her lawyer."

"Yeah." Hoffman groaned, making a mental note to follow up with the prosecutor on the potential of cutting a deal with Skyler. If they could find the bodies of the two missing agents, it would lessen the blow of losing nine central players, including _the_ most central player, in the Heisenberg case. "Alright, can you release her now and make sure she runs into her sister in the corridor? Has she signed that form yet?"

...

Compared to the dark interview room, the corridor was brighter than the sun. At least, it felt that way to Skyler. She winced and looked downwards. Her feet wouldn't move properly, and she had trouble keeping up with Agent Martinez and Janice as they lead her towards the elevators. She closed her eyes and shuffled forward.

"Skyler? Are you ok?" Marie ran towards her.

Skyler's eyes flipped open and were suddenly as wide as saucers again.

Marie arrived at her side and put a hand on her shoulder. "What's happening? Are you ok?"

"He's... he's dead."

"What?"

"Walt." Skyler gasped. "He's dead."

Marie's mouth fell open.

There was silence for several moments until Janice put her hand on Marie's arm. "She wants to tell her son," she said. "Would you drive her to the school?"

"Sure." Marie put her arm around her sister and began to walk her towards the elevators.

"No I don't," said Skyler faintly. "I don't want to tell him. I don't want to tell him that." She began to cry.

Marie pushed the down button next to the elevators. "It's alright. Flynn will be fine. We'll go and get him and take him home with us. Where's Holly?"

"With Christina."

"OK." They stepped into the elevator, Marie's arm still firmly around her sister, who was hunched forward and pale as a sheet. "Where's your car?"

"At home."

"Ok. We'll go and get Flynn and then I'll take you both home."

"I think my phone is there too. I wanted to call you but it wasn't in my bag."

"That's ok. We'll find it."

"I wanted to call you. They left me waiting in that room for so long."

Skyler's voice was faint, and Marie realised she had started to shake. She gave her shoulders a squeeze as they stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. "I tried to call you a couple of times, and I called the DEA and they wouldn't say a damn thing. So I just came down here."

"How did you know?"

"I was watching the news like a hawk. Only figured it out when I realised APD and the DEA were into the same thing. No-one else would have picked it. They're very tight-lipped about it. Do you know what happened?"

"They said Walt had a m-machine gun… set it to… fire automatically."

"Automatically? What does that mean?"

"I don't know. It fired automatically and it killed all those men, they must have been the men who killed Hank. I don't know who they were. They showed me photos but I didn't know any of them. I'm glad I didn't know any of them." Skyler shuddered and winced as photographs the DEA had showed her of the men's dead bodies appeared in her mind.

"Jesus. Who were they? All the people Walt worked with? Let's hope that, let's hope it's all of them, then we won't have to be scared of them anymore."

They arrived at Marie's car, and Marie guided Skyler to the passenger door. "They must have been the people that killed Hank and Steve," Skyler said again.

Marie stopped moving briefly and looked at her. "What makes you say that?" she asked

"What Walt said yesterday." Skyler's voice was still very faint and Marie realised she was barely holding her own weight up, so she had to open the car door and push her inside. Then she walked around to her own door with a look of intense concentration on her face. The thought her brain was trying to formulate was, why would Walt do this? And she found she wanted it to be because the men had killed Hank. If they had killed Hank then Walt hadn't, and if he had killed them because of that then he hadn't wanted Hank to die and had wanted revenge. Just like Marie did. Then again, them all being dead did not fare well for her to find out what actually happened to her husband. And it didn't give her any chance to pursue justice herself. Frowning, she opened the driver's door and got inside. She found her sister bent over double in her seat, her hands over her head and her face pressed into her knees.

"Skyler, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. I don't know what's happening to me." Skyler gasped and coughed. A physical feeling had taken over her entire body; she thought it was panic. She couldn't stand the light and all sounds seemed inordinately loud. It had been been happening for a couple of hours but now it was getting worse.

"Do you wanna go to the doctor?"

"I can't afford that."

"I'll pay."

"No. I'm fine."

"You are not fine, Skyler."

"I think what it is is that...th-these men, if these are all the people Walt was working with, and even if they're not, if they're the people who killed Hank and Steve, and they're all dead, then we can't find out any more about it and the only person the DEA have left to blame is me." Skyler began to gasp and panic. "There's only me! They'll throw away the k-key, I…"

"Trust Walt to go out in a blaze of glory and not think about the consequences on anyone else."

Skyler splattered and gasped. "This is getting worse."

"Ok, breathe."

"Can't." Skyler choked.

"Skyler, I think you're having a panic attack. You need to breathe and try and calm yourself."

Skyler continued to gasp.

"Skyler, look at me. It's going to be OK. Look at me."

Skyler tried to turn her head, but couldn't turn it very far. "What about Holly and…. Flynn?"

"They'll be fine. I'll look after them, you know that."

"I can't breathe."

"Ok, you need to lift your head and sit up. Your airway is restricted. I'll help you, come on. Sit up."

Marie placed her left arm across Skyler's collarbone and lifted it. It felt heavy, and Skyler's chest continued to shudder all the while as she struggled to breathe.

"Don't pant like that, it makes it worse. You need to breathe deeply, listen to me." Marie took a deep breath. "Breathe in to the count of three, 1-2-3."


	4. Chapter 4

Flynn made his gait as strong and stride-like as he could as he traversed the corridor to the cafeteria. He had heard enough whispers and seen enough looks today to not want to handle any more. He looked down and focused on his goal. The cafeteria line wasn't too long. Good, he thought, taking his place at the end of it and taking a quick glance around the room to see if Louis was there. He wasn't, so Flynn looked down again. Then he heard a shout from behind him, and he knew from the attitude behind it that it came from one of the school bullies, Kent Whitman. "Hey, Flynn!" yelled Kent, appearing behind him in the line. "Daddy's back, huh? Where is he hiding? He going to help you with your homework?"

He paused for effect while his buddies sniggered. Flynn stood up straighter, but kept looking away.

"Or is he just going to help you pull your panties up?"

Flynn's face darkened, but he'd learned from experience that the best thing to do is ignore bullies. Actually, his dad had taught him that. This thought made Flynn even angrier, and he turned and powered out of the cafeteria and into the yard. He kept walking as fast as he could until he came to a bench on the far side of the baseball field. Sitting down, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to Google the news.

...

"Yeah yeah, we're going!" Marie waved at the parking inspector and threw the car into drive. Finding her vision obscured by cigarette smoke, she wound down her window.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Skyler kept saying.

"It's fine, don't worry. You just focus on your breathing."

Skyler tried to wind her window down too, but found she couldn't stand the noise of the traffic, so she put it straight back up again.

"Ok, there's a Dairy Queen up ahead, I'm going to go through the drive-thru and get us both something sweet and chocolatey for stress relief. Then we can sit in their parking lot for as long as we want."

Skyler ended up asking for a chocolate thickshake. Marie got an iced tea and a chocolate cupcake. The health food drive of both of them had fallen significantly in the past few months because of what they'd suffered. There were times when frozen yoghurt just wouldn't cut it.

Skyler held her thickshake to her temple, closed her eyes and felt the condensation run down it. She resisted the urge to have another cigarette, only because she'd never intended to smoke in her sister's car to begin with and was amazed at the fact that Marie had waved her on and let her do it. She was grateful for that. But she tried to resist having another one until the desire was so overwhelming it almost caused her to panic again. She wanted to get out of the car and smoke under a tree, but there were no trees and she couldn't face the outside. So she stayed put, sucking deeply on the thick shake and looking straight ahead.

"How do you feel?" asked Marie.

"I don't know," said Skyler.

"Still pretty bad?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Well don't worry, it's temporary. I'm gonna take you home and put you to bed. I'll put on some relaxing music and leave you with a book or a movie. Then I'll go and get Flynn."

"No, we have to get Flynn now."

"With you like this?"

"I'll be fine, I can turn it off. I won't make him worry. I just need to catch my breath."

"I'm not concerned about him, I'm concerned about you. No you cannot turn it off, all you can do is repress it so it gets worse later. As long as you are looking after someone else, you don't look after _you_. As long as someone else has your focus, you don't pay any attention to your needs, and you ignore them for so long that they eventually explode, like they did just before. And like they did when you jumped in the pool. It was after Flynn left that you did that. If he'd stayed, you still would have been going through all that hell but you wouldn't have been able to let it out, you wouldn't have been able to access any help. Am I right?"

Skyler sucked on her thick shake and breathed deeply, saying nothing.

"Mental health is health, alright, and I've tried to tell you that before but you haven't listened to me. You are unwell today. You need to go home and lay in bed for a few hours. You need to look after yourself and have no demands placed on you by anybody else."

"But I need to tell Flynn about his father. He can't find that out from the news!"

"I'll tell him. He won't find out from the news. I'll drop you home and I'll go tell him."

"You can't, Marie, because…." Skyler began to cry. "You can't. I'm sorry. It has to be me."

"Why does it have to be you?"

"Because…." The crying got worse, it became sobbing and gasping, and Marie put her hand on Skyler's back and moved it very gently up and down.

"It's fine," she said. "I'll tell him. And he will be fine."

Skyler turned to look at her sister for the first time in some minutes. "He won't be fine! How can he be fine?" She cried.

"Skyler, I hate to say this, but throughout all of this crap that has happened to our family, the one who has held it together the best all the way through has been Flynn. And the one who has held it together the least has been you. You are not well today and you need to go home. Flynn is not the one who needs extra care right now, it's you."

"I don't matter, he's the one who matters."

Marie's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"It's all my fault anyway, I deserve everything I get but he doesn't."

"I am going to drag you kicking and screaming into a therapist's office as soon as I possibly can, Skyler, that is the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. Of course you matter! You both matter and this is not your fault. I love both of you and I will look after both of you and Holly today. Since Flynn and Holly are both fine right now and you are unwell, my first priority is to get you home. Once I've sorted you out, I will go and get Flynn, I will tell him about Walt, we'll talk about it together, I'll let him let out whatever he needs to let out, I won't say bad things about Walt because you've asked me not to do that. Then he and I will go and get Holly and we will check on you. If you're feeling better, we can all go out to dinner, or better yet have take out at home. If you're not feeling better, I will leave you to rest up and I'll take the kids to my place and look after them there."

The enormity of her failure as a parent hit Skyler, not for the first time, and she began to sob again.

Marie continued to rub her back. "It'll be alright, honey, I promise. We'll get through this like we've got through everything else. And like we'll get through everything in the future." She looked Skyler in the eye. "Together. As a family. We will be alright."

"The reason I don't want you to tell him is…" Skyler took a breath, sniffed and planned her words. "Is because you hate Walt. And Flynn doesn't but he thinks he does. So if he's told by you, his hate will come out rather than…." her voice broke. "Rather than his love."

Marie thought about this for a moment. "And what if the anger comes out when you tell him as well? What if he's made even more angry when he sees the state you're in because of his father? What if he goes off on a ranting tirade against him - who can stand up to that better, me or you?"

"But that's not what he really feels, the love is still there buried under-"

"Maybe he feels both, have you considered that?"

"Yes, and that's even worse!"

"Look Sky, whatever he is feeling is obviously really complicated and he's been working through it with his counsellor, but the last time I spoke to him about it he said he still didn't know what he really felt and he had different conflicting emotions about it. As I know you do too. But whatever he is really feeling or what hidden feelings are masked by other feelings, no matter what is there, the moment when he is told his father is dead is not going to be the moment when the real feelings reveal themselves. He's probably going to react with shock, anger, he might scream and run away…. Or he might not have any visible reaction at all. Either way, he is not going to have a good old sob with you. That comes later. It took me weeks to be able to have a good old sob about Hank. At the start, everything is so conflicting, different emotions zipping in and out of your mind so fast you can't possibly make sense of them. It takes a lot of time and therapy to figure it out. And he will have that, but it won't happen today. So I think regardless of which of us tells him today, his reaction will be the same, but I think no matter what it is, I can handle it better than you can today, and I'm not saying that to offend you, it's just because you're not well today, and if his reaction makes you worse and you end up having another panic attack in front of him, then how will he feel? Then he'll have to take care of you and he'll have to repress whatever he's feeling. How is that good for him?"

Finally, Skyler nodded. The argument that Flynn's condition could make her condition worse didn't bother her in the least, but the argument that her condition could make his condition worse certainly did.

"Ok."

"Alright. Are you ok to go home now?"

"Yep."

"Do you want me to stop off and get you something - comfort food, a new book to read?"

"Bottle of wine?"

"No." Marie shook her head firmly. "Alcohol is not a good idea for you right now." She paused. "Do you need more cigarettes?"

Skyler nodded.

"Alright. I'll stop by the grocery store."


	5. Chapter 5

Marie stepped into JP Wynne High School office and smiled at the secretary. "Hi," she said. "I'm Flynn White's Aunt Marie. I need to speak to him urgently about a family matter."

"Oh, is everything alright?"

"Well, you know."

They looked at each other, the secretary waiting for Marie to say more and Marie waiting for the secretary to go and get Flynn.

"I actually need to take him home. So when you get him, if you could get him to grab his bag and books and whatever too."

"Ok, I just need to go find the principal. She was in a meeting, I just have to go check if it's finished." The secretary disappeared, and Marie paced gently back and forth for a surprisingly short amount of time until she came back. "Sorry," she said. "The meeting is still going on. And I looked at the schedule and it's not due to finish for at least another half hour."

"Ok," said Marie. "Well is there someone else who can authorise Flynn's departure from the school? Deputy principal?"

"The deputy is in the meeting too."

"Ok. School counsellor? Year group teacher?"

The secretary looked awkward.

"The teacher of the class he's in now? I'm not doing this for fun you know, we have a pretty serious family emergency, and if you know who we are you'll know that if I don't tell Flynn right away, he is going to find out from the news instead."

The secretary's mouth formed an 'oh' shape, and she nodded. "Yes," she said. "I do know who you are, I mean I know your family, I mean I know about them, but I don't know you personally. You said you're his aunt, well a lady claiming to be his aunt rang him on the phone a couple days ago and it turned out it was actually his fugitive father, so. Sorry, but I can't go and get him without authorisation from somebody else. Somebody who knows that you are actually his aunt. I'm sorry, it's just... for student safety we don't let them go with people that we can't vouch for."

Marie nodded and tapped her finger on the bench. "How about Flynn? He can vouch for me."

The secretary nodded, and her hand reached for the phone. "I'll just phone his mother."

"No, she's not well, that's why I'm here."

The secretary's mouth made the 'oh' shape again. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

Marie rolled her eyes, realising that the secretary probably now thought Flynn's mother's illness was what the family emergency was. "Ok, how about this. How about you Google me."

"What?"

"Just Google Marie Schrader. The news outlets of Albuquerque will tell you exactly who I am."

The secretary's fingers moved to the keyboard, and then she paused.

"What?"

"How do you spell Schrader?"

...

After what to Marie seemed like the longest wait ever, Flynn appeared in school lobby, his backpack on his back. "Hey, Aunt Marie," he said, and hugged her.

"Hey, honey," she replied.

She turned and started walking towards the car. Flynn followed, staring at her as he tried to figure out what was going on. Then he frowned and looked straight ahead. "Dad's done something, hasn't he?"

"You could say that. Yeah."

Flynn shook his head. "What did he do now?"

"I'll tell you in the car. Although I'm sorry, I'm afraid your mother made it stink of smoke."

"P-please tell me he has been...arrested."

They arrived at the car, and Marie unlocked it and got in the driver's side. Flynn walked to the passenger side, scowling.

He got in, and Marie turned in her seat to look at him, trying to figure out what to say.

"I take your lack of reply to mean that n-no he...hasn't been arrested."

Marie shook her head.

"God damnit. The only one who...could arrest him was…Uncle Hank. The rest of them are u-useless."

"Well, they might have been able to arrest him last night, but…." Marie screwed up her eyes as she realised how bitterly disappointed she was too that he hasn't been arrested. "What happened was, he went to meet a group of eight men, we don't know who they were yet, and it looks like what happened was…."

Flynn did the math, and his eyes opened wide. He'd seen the news articles about the nine dead bodies too. And the machine gun.

"...was that he killed them all and himself."

"What?"

Marie scrunched up her eyes again. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I don't mean he killed h- I don't mean he shot himself in the head or… or anything like that, the DEA aren't sure exactly what happened yet, but they found nine bodies and one of them was your father."

Flynn looked at his aunt, his dark eyes deep but emotionless.

"Sorry, I wish I could tell you more about it. The DEA wouldn't tell me anything and your mother is not very well, so."

"What's wrong with Mom?"

"She had a panic attack. She's not doing very well. I took her home and put her to bed."

Flynn's eyes started to move now, and his breathing quickened. "W-what does that mean?"

"Just that, that she was panicking and she couldn't control what was happening in her head. Couldn't breathe properly either. But she's ok now, she's lying in bed resting."

Flynn's breathing slowed.

"How do you feel? Are you ok?"

"Yep." His eyes were giving nothing away.

"We can talk about it."

"What else do you know?"

"Not much. Apparently he rigged up a machine gun to shoot everybody. And your mother thinks based on what he said to her yesterday that they were the men who killed Uncle Hank.

"What?"

"That's all I know. We'll find out more in time."

"W-what do you mean, th-they killed Uncle Hank? H-he killed uncle Hank!"

"Do you want that to be true? I don't."

"S-sometimes the truth sucks and...y-you just have to accept it."

"Yeah, I know. Like I said, all I know is what your mother has told me today, and that isn't much because she's really not well."

"M-mom doesn't accept anything, she still defends that...bastard."

"Yeah, I know."

"D-don't listen to what she says about him."

"Well we're going to have to listen to her because she's going to be grieving pretty hard for the next little while. We just have to let her do that. Don't argue with her. Let her feel what she feels for him."

"He was an asshole, h-he never deserved her."

Marie nodded strongly. "Yes."

"So s-she's at home right now?"

"Yeah, she's just resting up. I left her with a Bill Bryson book and some chocolate. Thought she could use some humour."

"Th-thanks. Thanks for l-looking after her."

Marie's eyebrows flipped up and down in a confused way. "Of course. She's my sister. We look after each other. We all do, don't we?"

"Y-yeah."

Flynn straightened up in his seat and looked forward. "W-we all do except for...Dad." He swallowed, and put his seatbelt on.

Marie pulled out her phone and texted Skyler. "Flynn is fine. Don't worry. We'll go get Holly now and leave you alone for a while longer. Just relax. Text me if you need anything x"

"Thank you x", was Skyler's response.

...

"There's my favourite girl!" Marie squealed with delight as Holly rushed towards her. She swept her into her arms, smothering her with kisses.

"Thanks, Christina," said Flynn. "W-what time did Mom...drop her off?"

"It was at about 8:15," Christina smiled.

Flynn took out his wallet. "Ok, that's about 6 hours." He handed her some cash.

"Is everything alright? Where is Skyler?"

"M-my dad died." said Flynn matter-of-factly.

"Oh! S-sorry...is it sorry, not sorry?"

"Sorry he didn't get to pay for what he did, the asshole."

"Oh wow. Yes, I very sorry about that."

...

Marie, Flynn and Holly drove to a cafe with outdoor tables in a park that had a secure play area for Holly. It wasn't far away from Skyler, Flynn and Holly's new home, and they had been there a few times as a family. Holly loved it. She let out a whoop and ran straight to the play equipment.

"What do you want?" asked Marie.

"Black coffee," Flynn replied.

"Ok. You want a cake or something too?"

"N-no thank you."

"Comfort food is good, that's all I'm saying. Especially if it's chocolate flavoured."

"I-I'm fine."

Flynn watched his sister flipping large colourful balls around on poles that resembled an abacus. A little boy near her was turning a toy steering wheel, and he honked the horn. She laughed. Flynn's face was set in a hard scowl.

Marie returned, placing their order number on the table and then walking over to Holly. She took a picture on her phone of Holly squealing with delight, and texted it to Skyler along with a :-) and a 👍. Then she went back over to Flynn.

"How do you feel?"

"What if I don't...want to talk about my feelings? Is that why you...brought us here, s-so I can tell you about my feelings? C-cause that's not happening."

"No, I brought you here so your mother can have some time alone. She worries about both of you so much, she forgets to look after herself. I am forcing her to look after herself by leaving her alone for a while."

"S-she shouldn't worry about me. I'm...almost an...adult. And I'm r-really sick of being treated like a...baby."

"It's a very adult thing to talk about your feelings, Flynn. If you refuse to talk about them then you are being a baby, and then you can't complain if we treat you like a baby."

"That's bullshit. Adults...d-don't talk about their feelings. Mom r-refuses to - I've...asked her so many times and sh-she still won't."

"Yeah I know, and today she had a panic attack because she's been letting everything pile up on top of her for the past four months - no, longer than that, then there was the enormously long period when she knew what your father was doing and none of the rest us did, she kept it all to herself. Do you think that was good for her?"

Flynn's frown deepened further.

"Neither of your parents have set you a good example with regard to honesty, I know. And neither did mine, I had to learn it the hard way. I spent a lot of years holding everything inside and then throwing childish tantrums when things didn't go my way. When if I'd only been honest with myself and others and stopped behaving like a baby, a lot more things would have gone my way. It took a lot of bad experiences for me to learn that, though. Finally I got arrested for shoplifting and put into court ordered therapy. And my therapist taught me that honesty is always the best thing, and if something is bothering you, if you just talk it through with the people that you love it will feel a lot better."

Flynn's eyebrows rose and he turned to look at her. "Y-you were arrested for...shoplifting?"

"More than once." Marie looked at him knowingly. "None of us have set you a good example, Flynn, but in spite of our worst efforts, you have turned out incredibly well, and you are the shining light of this family now. You are level headed, you can always see the right thing to do. You're loving and caring, you support your family. I don't know what your mother would do without you. I don't know what I would do without you either. You're an outstanding person. But because you're so outstanding, we tend to lean on you rather a lot. And that's not good for you if you don't have an outlet for it. Have someone to talk to about things and help you face your problems. So when someone asks you how you're feeling, you should tell the truth. It's good to have a talk, get it off your chest."

"This was before you met...Uncle Hank, right? When you...got arrested?"

"Nope."

"Y-you're kidding me. Are you serious or...are you kidding?"

"I used to steal as a kid as well, I did get caught once then, but I was let off by the mall security guard because I played the young and innocent card. The times when I got arrested, as in taken to the police station and all that, were all when I was with Hank."

"But h-he was a cop."

Marie raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Some wife I was."

"W-why did you do it?"

"Because I hadn't dealt with the problems in my life, the problems in my head, and sooner or later they just had to come out. With me, they tend to come out in bad behaviour towards others, but your mother internalises them. She's very self-destructive."

The waitress brought out their drinks, and Flynn stared at his coffee and then back at his aunt.

"Your father started a drug empire because of it. I mean, I assume that was why. He spent his entire life as an underachiever - did you know he worked on Nobel Prize winning research when he was younger? He could have gone really far if he kept up with that sort of thing, but instead he became a high school teacher. Where was that going? Nowhere. He was frustrated by that, and he was always low in confidence and unassuming, and them he gets cancer at age 50, breaks bad and goes nuts. Explodes, literally, a wave of destruction spreading everywhere around him. I'm sure it's because he never let things out or was true to himself before."

Holly squealed as she ran around the yard with the other children. Flynn took a sip of his coffee and burnt his mouth.

"All I'm saying is, don't repeat our mistakes. Be true to yourself, be honest with others, and do not hold your feelings inside. You've been through hell this year, and you can either repress it and let it eat you up from the inside out, or you can acknowledge it, talk about it, process it, move on. Live a happy life in spite of it."


	6. Chapter 6

Skyler finished a chapter and rolled over. She looked at the block of chocolate on the bed beside her, which was almost all gone. She couldn't believe she had eaten all that, and a chocolate thickshake. She really needed it, though, she knew. Taking a deep breath, she stretched her arms above her head and stared up at the ceiling for a long while.

She performed her mental check. Her heart was still beating hard, but the crushing feeling on her chest had almost gone. More than anything else, she felt dazed. Unable to believe that the last 8 hours had really happened.

Am I ok to get up? she thought. She sat up first, and looked around. She put her feet on the floor and rubbed her toes into the carpet fibres.

...

"So how are you feeling?"

"I don't know. I really w-wanted him to go to prison. But h-he's just…he's totally copped out again and...refused to face the music. He's taken the...coward's way out."

"Yeah. That he has." Marie sighed and sipped her tea.

Holly started trying to climb onto a small bouncy horse, and Marie rushed over to make sure she didn't fall off it. Flynn watched as she held Holly's hand and bounced her up and down. He couldn't help feeling jealous of his little sister. She would never know their father at all. What a relief for her. Tears began to prick the back of Flynn's eyes as he thought about what she would miss out on. The stories his dad used to read in a variety of funny voices, the trips he took the family on, the science behind everyday things he taught Flynn about.

"Would you like some cake, Holly?" asked Marie. "I got you a special little cake with a butterfly on it."

"A buckafwy?" asked Holly, her eyes wide.

"Yeah. Do you want some?"

"Yeah." The child nodded. Aunt Marie picked her up and brought her back to the table. Holly reached for the cake. "Hang on," said Marie, sitting her on her lap. She cut the cake into four pieces with a fork and placed it in front of Holly, who eagerly picked up a piece and began chewing. "You want some, Flynn?"

"Sure," Flynn replied, leaning over and grabbing one.

Marie picked the icing off another piece and put the cake into her mouth. "So what would you have done if your father had been put in prison?"

"Refused to visit him. R-refused to take his calls, a-and then I don't know if he would have bothered to...write me, but if he had, I w-would have sent the letters back."

"Fair enough," said Marie. "You know what would have happened then, though."

"What?"

"Your mother would have been the only one who did visit him."

"W-why would she do that?"

"Because she loves him. That's why she did all this, she loves him."

Flynn frowned. "I thought she wanted to...divorce him."

"She was in two minds about it."

"Because he was m-manipulating her. She pro-probably...made up her mind to do it a-and then he...manipulated her out of it."

"Yep. I think that's what happened. But if he was still alive, he would still be able to manipulate her, wouldn't he?"

"I would...tell her not to visit him in prison."

"And manipulate her yourself?"

Flynn looked away.

"And then she would have to hide from the rest of us that she was visiting him because we wouldn't stop arguing with her about it, and then things would go back to the way they were. With her hiding things from us."

"D-don't you think she would have the strength to just...l-leave him? Divorce him and m-move on with her life?"

"She does have a lot of strength, yes. I'm not saying that that wouldn't happen. I'm saying that it would take a lot of soul searching and a lot of suffering for her to get there. And he would be pulling on her heartstrings all the while because she really really loves him."

"Sh-she's smart, though. And she's...suffered so much through being associated with him, sh-she's using her maiden name now. Wouldn't… wouldn't she figure out that it's...best for her to stay away from him?"

"Maybe. After a while. Meantime he was sick, too, though. I don't know, all I know is she did some pretty awful things, things she feels really badly about and can't forgive herself for, and she keeps apologising to me over and over, and she knew that they were dangerous and stupid and just plain wrong, but she did them because she loves him. That's the only reason I've been able to figure out for it, anyway. Nothing else makes sense. And maybe eventually she would look at the destruction he had caused to her life and realise that she had to divorce him, but meantime she probably would have convinced you to go visit him. And then there's Holly. When she gets a bit older, she'll be wanting to know all about her dad. What would we do then?"

"Tell her he's dead."

In saying this, Flynn realised that the hypothetical scenario they'd been constructing was now gone, and what he had stated was reality. He blinked and looked away. Marie nodded silently.

...

Skyler's message tone beeped, and she stepped away from the stove. An adorable image of her daughter's face covered in cake and icing greeted her, along with Marie's words, _How are you doing?_

 _I'm fine_ , she texted back. _I'm making stir fry. You want some?_

Marie, surprised, hit the call button.

"Hi," Skyler said softly.

"Hey, you're cooking?"

"Yeah. Kind of enjoying it. Plus I was absolutely starving, so. I hadn't eaten real food all day."

Marie smiled. "That's awesome. Alright. Do you want us to head back over there then?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. What shall I bring?"

...

When she heard the keys in the lock, Skyler turned and ran to the door. "Flynn," she said, pulling him into a deep, long hug.

Flynn gripped her as strongly as she gripped him. "Are you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Are you? I'm fine."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Catching Holly's eye behind Flynn's back, Skyler's eyes lit up. She reached out a hand, and Marie brought the child over and lifted her so that she was half in her mother's arms and half in her own. The four of them clung together, and the weight on Skyler's chest finally began to release.

"We love you, Skyler," whispered Marie.

"I love you too," Skyler replied, happy tears in her eyes now. "I love you all so much."

...

"C-can we watch the news?" asked Flynn, somewhat hesitantly.

Skyler looked at him. "Sure," she said expressionlessly, then stepped outside with a cigarette.

Flynn and Marie looked at each other, both bursting to know more. "Ok," said Marie, picking up the remote and turning on the TV. Flynn gave Holly some building blocks and sat her in the kitchen, hoping she would keep looking in the other direction. He sat next to his aunt on the sofa just as the headlines were beginning.

"Walter White, also known as the drug lord Heisenberg, found dead after a shootout north of Albuquerque last night. Three people dead and two in a serious condition in hospital after a three car pile up on the i40 this morning. A photo finish in not one but two events at the college championships. And New Mexico braces for a wet and windy weekend.

"To our top story, Walter White, alias Heisenberg, was confirmed dead by the Drug Enforcement Administration this afternoon. His body was found along with those of eight other alleged criminals, after a shootout with a difference. Melissa Lyons has the story."

The image cut from the news reader to a well-dressed journalist standing by the chain link fence that Jesse Pinkman had once desperately tried to climb over. "Albuquerque Police Department were called to this industrial estate just north of the Albuquerque city fringe at approximately 9:30 p.m. last night," she said, "after nearby residents heard gunshots."

The image cut to a man with unkempt hair standing on an equally unkempt suburban street, saying, "It sounded like a machine gun. I've heard shootings before, but not like that. I called 911 because it was a machine gun, and it went on for a while, sounded like he emptied his entire clip in one long burst, no breaks even."

The image cut to some still, fairly censored images of the site, with the journalist's voice over the top of them. "Albuquerque police attended to make the horrifying discovery of nine dead bodies, along with what is believed to be a warehouse sized methamphetamine lab and a large stash of cash."

The image cut to a press conference at the DEA lead by ASAC Ramey. "Albuquerque Police Department alerted the DEA last night of their discovery of a warehouse laboratory containing approximately 25 pounds of methamphetamine and more than $40 million in cash. They also found the bodies of nine alleged criminals, who appeared to have been involved in a shootout with a remotely triggered machine gun. One of the bodies was that of Walter Hartwell White, also known as Heisenberg."

An audible gasp was heard from the journalists listening to the press conference.

"The other eight men are believed to have been members of a white power prison gang, connected to multiple murders, extortion and drug crimes. Albuquerque is a much safer place without these men, and without the drugs that they were making. Some of the men remain unidentified, but those we can reveal to you now are Jack Welker, Todd Alquist, Kenny-"

Mugshots of each man appeared on the screen as his name was read out. Marie's hand flew over her mouth. "They look so scary!" she gasped. Flynn took her other hand.

Skyler, who was watching Holly through the kitchen door and could actually hear everything, as the soundproofing in the walls was non-existent, saw Holly turn and move towards the living room, so she quickly ran in, grabbed her and took her outside. This surprised Holly, and she began to cry.

"Sorry, honey, sorry sorry." Skyler rubbed her back and buried her face in her hair. "I didn't mean to scare you."

The cries effectively drowned out the TV, and Skyler wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Her instinct told her it was a good thing. Her instinct was not to want to know anything. But she knew how much that had hurt her in the past.

Holly was wriggling, wanting to get down. Skyler put her down on the concrete and squatted next to her, but she toddled over to the kitchen door and looked back at her mother, saying, "Col, col."

"All right," said Skyler, picking her up again and opening the door. "Do you want some chocolate ice cream? Aunt Marie brought some over. Do you want some ice cream?"

"Yeah yeah!" Holly giggled and threw her arms into the air. Skyler walked slowly into the kitchen, careful not to turn towards the television. She took out some bowls and then the ice cream, and that had Holly mesmerised. She wasn't struggling to get down or looking anywhere else. But Skyler could hear ASAC Ramey's voice telling people to look out for Jesse Pinkman, saying he was alive and at large and highly dangerous. She heard ringing in her ears as adrenaline rushed through her body. She tried to focus on the ice cream.

When the news reader switched to talking about the accident on the i40, Skyler reflected that she had never been more relieved to hear about a car accident. She brought the bowls of ice cream to the table and sat Holly in her high chair. "Can you turn it off now, please?" she said quietly. She looked at Marie and Flynn for the first time.

"Yeah, I've heard enough about this accident today," said Marie, standing up.

Flynn turned off the TV and also stood up. "Sorry, Mom," he said. "W-was that a problem for you? Us watching the news?"

"No no, of course not. You're entitled to watch the news. It's good if one of us knows what's going on."

"I just w-wanted to know what happened."

"Of course." Skyler nodded. She tried to look nonchalant as she placed the bowls of ice cream around the table. "Anything important I should know about?" Her heart beat faster, and she didn't meet Flynn's eyes.

"N-no, they didn't really r-reveal anything we didn't know already. 'Cept that it was in a...meth lab with $40 million dollars. Ho-holy crap. What would you even do with that kind of money?"

"Nothing at all," said Skyler.

Marie's eyes were on Skyler throughout this exchange, trying to pick up on any body language or tone of voice that might reveal anything Skyler wasn't saying. She couldn't see anything other than general haggardness, and upon having this thought realised that she felt the same thing. Her heart was beating a lot faster than usual. She couldn't get those men's faces out of her mind.

Flynn pulled out his chair.

"Wait!" said Marie. "I need a hug after that, Flynn. Do you?"

Flynn looked around. "Yeah," he said, and held out his arms to her. She held hers out to Skyler too, and hugged them both at once. "That was really intense," she said. "It was really scary to see it laid out like that."

"W-with the photos and stuff," said Flynn.

"Yeah."

Skyler said nothing. After what she considered to be a polite amount of time, she pulled away and sat down with her ice cream. Flynn and Marie were silent as they sat down too. Skyler was glad of this because she had something very important to say to them.

If it was possible for her heartbeat to rise any further, it rose then. Her mouth was dry. She swallowed nervously.

"Th-thanks for the ice cream, Aunt Marie." said Flynn.

"You're welcome."

Skyler took a breath. "Yeah, thank you."

"Sure."

"I umm… I…"

Flynn's head turned towards his mother. "What?" He asked.

Skyler breathed in and out, as deeply as she could. Marie put a hand on as hers, and she took it and grabbed it tightly.

"It's OK," said Marie.

"No it's not, you're not going to be happy with this. Um. Not sure where to start." Her breathing quickened again.

"How about slowly. Just breathe... and remember that we're your family and we're not scary. And we're not gonna yell at you."

"You might."

"No I won't, Skyler, not today. Don't you trust me?"

Skyler lifted her eyes and smiled faintly. "With my life," she said.

Marie smiled too. "Ok good, well, eat some ice cream and get it off your chest. Honesty is the best medicine."

"Well…"

"Eat some ice cream first."

Skyler let out the smallest of giggles and looked down at her bowl, which she hadn't touched. She put her spoon in it and proceeded to practically inhale 3 full spoonfuls. Then, still looking down at the bowl, she began to speak.

"Yesterday, when Walt was here, he gave me something. It's some information. And when he gave it to me he said that I should use that information to trade for a deal with the prosecutor." She looked up.

"Oh good!" said Marie. "Is it something they want to know?"

Skyler nodded, her heart pummeling wildly. "Yeah."

"That's great, Mom," said Flynn. "Pretty...sh-shit of him to give it to you at the last minute, w-when he should have just...turned himself in, but… It's good that you have it."

Skyler nodded. "The thing is, for it to work, for me to get a deal, a reduced sentence or whatever, I need to hang on to the information for now until my lawyer and the DEA prosecutor can negotiate something we can agree on."

Flynn and Marie nodded.

"So I have to keep it to myself for now."

"Ok, good," said Flynn, who was scraping out his bowl of ice cream.

Skyler looked at him, then turned and looked at Marie. "But I won't do that if you don't want me to."

"So it's something to do with Hank?" Marie asked.

Skyler nodded, her heart beating out of her chest as Marie's began to do the same. "It's where he… is."

Flynn looked up. His mother and his aunt's eyes were locked together. Marie swallowed. There was a long silence. Skyler's eyes were low, guilty-looking, but she couldn't look away from her sister's.

"Y-you know where...Uncle Hank is?" gasped Flynn. "His b-body?"

Skyler looked at him "It's coordinates," she said. "Your father gave me GPS coordinates. So I don't know where exactly, but…"

"You could look it up. Y-you can put it on Google Maps."

"But I-"

"No, she needs to keep the information," said Marie. "She needs to keep it quiet."

Skyler turned back to her sister. "It's up to you," she said

"Me? Why?"

"Because it's Hank."

"Does your lawyer think you can get something out of it? Something real?"

"Yeah, well after finding Walt, which they have done, finding Hank and Steve is the only thing the DEA want now."

"Yeah, I bet, I bet they're w-wetting their pants for it!" said Flynn excitedly. "Don't...hold back, you can ask them for w-whatever you want!"

Skyler looked at him.

"That's really nice that you're asking Aunt Marie for...her blessing, Mom, but y...you have to do it. Y-you don't have a choice, y-you don't have...anything else. Right, Aunt Marie?"

"Yeah," Marie nodded.

"But it doesn't feel right to use Hank for…"

"Oh well that's just typical Walt, isn't it? He throws you a crumb at the eleventh hour like he's the big hero coming in and saving you, ignoring the fact that he's the reason you're in this mess in the first place and that the only way he can actually save you is to give himself up, and state on the record that it was all him and not you, and submit himself to whatever punishment the DEA sees fit, and tell the DEA himself where Hank and Steve are and tell them what actually happened to them! But no, it doesn't occur to him to do that, he just throws you GPS coordinates and makes you feel bad that you now have to "use" your dead brother-in-law to cut a deal. Walt would never feel bad about using another person for his own ends, so it didn't even occur to him that you would. I think it's really sweet that you do, but, don't! Hank would want to help you!"

"Really?"

"Yes, he would love to help you, actually, he talked about that a lot!"

Skyler frowned. "Why?"

"Because you got pulled in and did a lot of very stupid things, but the real criminal here was never you, it's Walt! Just because he can weasel out of it by dying doesn't mean you should be left holding the can!"

"But I got Hank killed."

"No, Walt did. And those eight scary men, apparently. Well just because they're dead doesn't mean that you should go to prison for all of their crimes! That wasn't you! But the DEA will try to do just that, so, milk those coordinates for all that they're worth. They obviously aren't capable of finding the bodies on their own, they've had almost four months to try and they've failed. So Flynn's right, they will be wetting their pants for that information. You can ask for whatever you want. I'd ask for a non-custodial sentence."

"I can't get a non-custodial sentence."

"You could try. This is your ticket. Try."

"You really think that Hank would…"

"Hank would be fine with that, yes. Walt is an asshole for making that the thing that you have to use, but you don't have anything else."

"Even though I would be arguing against Hank's workplace…. I wouldn't be on his side."

"If he had lived, he would have argued against his workplace on this."

"M-mom, you...you have to take w-what you can. You have to...defend yourself. Y-you can go to prison for one year or 10 years or even more than that i-if you don't...defend yourself."

Skyler nodded, resisting the urge to say that she believed with every fibre of her being that she deeply deserved any punishment she could get.

"So...w-why did he have it as...coordinates?" asked Flynn.

"Because it's where he buried his money."

"He...buried money in the desert?"

Skyler was silent.

"The last thing your Uncle Hank and Steve Gomez did was they found the money," said Marie. "That was the proof, that's how they were able to arrest him. Is it both of them?" She looked at Skyler. "Both of their bodies?"

Skyler nodded, and spoke very slowly. "Walt said yesterday that those eight men stole his money and murdered Hank and Steve, and buried their bodies in the same hole."

"Whoah", breathed Flynn.

Marie's eyes flipped shut involuntarily. Skyler took her hand. "I won't do it if you don't want me to."

"No no, do it. Definitely. Did he say anything else?"

Skyler shook her head, wishing not for the first time that she had just asked. What happened to Hank? Now they would never know.

"It's r-really good that we can find him, though," said Flynn. "There will be a delay whi-while you make your deal, but...then w-we can find him and...have a funeral, and stuff."

Marie nodded, her eyes closing again. Skyler stroked the back of her hand, realising for the first time that they were both widows now.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh. It's you."

"Hi. I'm so sorry I didn't call you yesterday, I…." Skyler stopped herself from saying more, realising she had no excuse her mother-in-law would accept. She was being interviewed by the DEA? Then she suffered a mental health complaint? The woman had been hard enough to deal with when Skyler was a law-abiding housewife. She definitely didn't need to know about any of that. "Have you heard?"

"Front page of the newspaper this morning."

"I'm so sorry. I should have called you before you found out that way."

Her mother-in-law grunted.

Silence.

"Have you got anything else to say? Is there a funeral, or…?"

Skyler shook herself, realising she hadn't even considered that because she didn't know anyone other than herself who would want to go. She wasn't even sure if the bodies of felons were allowed to be released to their families. "I don't know, uh-"

"Well you're his wife. You're the one who's meant to know about the funeral."

"Do you want to come?"

"Yeah. Why, were you not going to invite me?"

"It's not that. There are very few people who would want to go, but…. I think quite a lot would want to protest and ...attack him and…"

"Do you New Mexicans have no respect for the dead?"

"Walt is…. hated here."

"We'll do it over here, then."

Skyler reflected on this. She'd quite like to wash her hands of the whole thing, but she doubted her mother-in-law was actually offering to organise anything much. "Well," she said. "That's a nice idea, but the cost to ship the body there would be quite high. And I'm not allowed to leave Albuquerque because I'm on bail. If you want to do it yourself that's fine, but I'm not actually sure if the DEA is going to release his body at all, so."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Because he's a felon."

"He was never convicted of anything. He was never even charged with anything, unlike you."

"He was guilty."

"Of all the things I have thought about you, Skyler, all the things that pulled him back, all the things I didn't like, the one thing I was fairly sure I could trust in was that you loved him."

Skyler nodded, tears beginning to fall. "Yep."

"So are you going to give him a funeral or aren't you?"

"I'll ...phone the mortuary and ask what can be done."

"Thank you, and once you've done that, if you could bother to phone me and tell me the outcome that would be wonderful."

...

Skyler had no one to talk to. No one who understood. Marie was being wonderful, but she felt she had to censor herself quite a lot with regards to what she said about Walt. In particular, she had to censor her grief. She tried to show it to Flynn, collapsing in his arms in tears one night, but he didn't join her.

Both of them did stop saying scathing things about Walt, though, and she supposed that was a blessing. People at work, the DEA, Flynn's school, and even on the street people were saying things like "You must be glad to be rid of him," and, "Good riddance!" with disturbing regularity, and every time Skyler heard it she wanted to scream. Because no, she wasn't glad to be rid of him, it wasn't good riddance, she was still the woman who had sat with the talking pillow and begged her husband stay alive because she loved him with all her heart.

Dealing with work, the kids, the DEA, funeral homes and the morgue kept her busy, at least. Many widows have said that the time before the funeral is easier than the time after because there is just so much to do. Organising the funeral, primarily. The burden of telling people had been taken off her by the media, which was sometimes a great relief and sometimes pure hell. Images of her husband leapt out at her from every news stand, and the media always seemed to choose the scariest looking photographs of him, which played a confronting contrast with the memories of the science teacher in her head.

Organising the funeral was also not at all as it should be, as she hadn't even told her immediate family she was doing it, and she couldn't set a date because the DEA seemed determined to hold on to the body as long as they could. Because Walt was never convicted they couldn't keep him legally, but in the absence of the option to put him in an interview room, they seemed to want to try and get as much information as possible from his dead body. Where he'd been living, what he'd been eating, how advanced the cancer was, what treatment he must have been having and how.

"Just do it, Scott," said Ramey to ASAC Hoffman on the phone.

"You want me to make the deal?"

"No, not that. I've sent that to Legal for one last shot. No, the body. Release the body."

"You mean we can't we just keep him in a vault eternally?"

"And go down there every so often and kick it? I'd love to do that too, but it's not an option. We've found out everything we can, and the family wants the body back."

"Alright. How about we do that and put a tail on her and on the body to see where it goes, see how she finances it. I don't think she's even breaking even with her rent right now, so I don't know why she didn't take the free donate your body to science option."

"I didn't want her to take that option either. I didn't want to have to finance bodyguards to stop people throwing Molotov cocktails at the NMU pathology department."

"Maybe we should offer to escort the body, to prevent things like that. Then we get to follow it, see where she goes, what she does, where the money is coming from and what she really felt for him, I mean was she a battered wife or were they working together the whole time?"

"Mmm. Definitely a question worth answering."

"OK, I'll release the body then."

...

"I've made the appointment! You can't say no!"

"I can and I will. I'm sorry Marie, I know you care, but it is not in my interests to go to a therapist."

"How is it not in your interest? You are falling apart!"

"Oh, thank you. Nice to know you have faith in me."

"I do have faith in you Skyler, but nobody can get through this without therapy! If you don't get treatment, you'll develop a permanent mental health condition!"

Skyler swallowed. The truth was that the reason she didn't want to speak to a therapist was that she knew that therapy records could be obtained for use in court, and while she was trying to be honest with her family as much as possible, there were still a few things she had to keep close to her chest because they were her only chance of having a jury look favourably on her. She didn't want to tell Marie this, though, because she didn't want her to know that she was still holding back. That she was responsible for more of Walt's crimes than she was letting on. She'd been amazed when Marie had stated boldly that Hank's death wasn't her fault. And while she was pathetically grateful for this, the very next day, in an interview with the DEA, Agent Martinez had given her the strong impression that the reason the white power gang had gone to To'Hajiilee that day was that Walt had hired them to kill Jesse Pinkman. And that, Skyler knew, was her idea.

It made her sick to think about it. The thought that she had even expressed such a thing at all was one of the things that had always eaten her up the most, poured a good amount of fuel on the guilt that burned her soul every day, but knowing that she was the reason the criminals who killed Hank had been involved at all threatened to destroy her sanity entirely. She doubted therapy would help with this, and she was considering telling Marie, not wanting to leave her in the dark or manipulate her into giving care Skyler really didn't deserve, but she couldn't because until she went to prison, Marie was the only thing standing between her and homelessness. Her meagre wage from the taxi company was not enough to pay for rent and food, and the very idea of medical expenses terrified her because she knew she had nothing to cover it. Marie was also the only person she had to call on to help with Holly and Flynn. Flynn had a part-time job now and had taken on a lot of responsibility in the family, but she was always aware of the strain that was putting on him, and if the relationship between his mother and his aunt fell apart, he would be the one who would have to pick up the pieces.

"I don't understand why you're not on board with this! I'll pay for it!"

"You've done enough already, Marie. You're struggling for money yourself."

"Hank won't be missing for much longer. I have an inheritance and a pension coming. I think I'd like to sell the house, it's too big for me."

Skyler looked down. "Well if you do that, the money from it would be yours, not mine."

"I worry about you. You're not right mentally. And that's completely understandable given what's happened, you have sustained enormous trauma, you were practically imprisoned and manipulated by Walt for so long, which has completely screwed with your psychology, and then after he left your life fell apart, but back then it was kind of temporary. There was always the possibility that he would come back and take the heat off you. But now it's come to a head because he's dead and…. I mean that wasn't a coincidence, right, the fact that you had a panic attack on that day? Are you doing self-analysis at least? Do you know what caused it?"

"Yes, as I said to you at the time, it was the crippling fear that I will be thrown in prison and they will throw away the key. If I go to a therapist and start compiling all the intimate details of what I have done, and then the DEA subpoena that and present it in court, how do you think I'm going to come out of it?"

"They can't do that, can they?"

"Yeah. Yeah they can, I've looked into it."

"Well then the therapist would confirm how much manipulation Walt put on your brain! You can't see it, I know you still can't. The best thing about therapy is that you see yourself reflected back at you. You tell the therapist all the things that have been going on, and then they just know the right questions to ask that make you look back on it and say, 'Huh. Is that why I did that?' or 'I had that completely wrong about myself.' Or, 'Oh, ok, I couldn't have stopped that even if I tried. Actually I did try, it wasn't my fault.' It's so helpful, Skyler, and you need that."

Skyler said nothing.

"Come on! Please!"

"I can't."

"Well do you want to?"

Skyler shrugged. "There's no point even considering that because it's just not an option for me. Felons awaiting trial do not talk to counsellors."

"Alright, I'm going to look into this myself. I'm going to find out what they can really access in a trial situation, because the last time I checked, doctor patient confidentiality was pretty damn important."

"The only professional who can't be compelled to break that is a lawyer."

"Well if that is true it's simply awful and wrong that you should have to choose between your mental health and your freedom!"

"Yeah, well."

"But with your new information though, do you even need to have a trial? If you can cut a deal?"

Skyler shrugged. "Don't know. Seems unlikely I would be that lucky. But if I am, then I will revisit your offer. How's that?"

"Yeah. I suppose. I don't know why you're so worried though, even if your therapist was compelled to testify, surely all they could talk about would be the extent of the damage Walt did to you when he-"

"Marie. That's enough now."

...

Flynn and Skyler sat at the dinner table eating cut price fatty sausages, cabbage and potatoes. Skyler's stomach churned with guilt every time she served her children food that was fatty, high GI and boring, but she did always make sure that there were vitamins, carbs and protein.

"Flynn," she said, somewhat nervously. "I want to ask you something."

"Sure," he replied with his mouth full.

"I'd like you to come with me somewhere on Sunday. I'm... they told me yesterday that they're going to release your father's body. So today I spoke to a funeral home south of the city that I've spoken to before, and they said they have a cancellation on Sunday."

Flynn's eyebrows rose, and his voice found its polished tone of eloquent sarcasm. "Y-you're going to have a funeral. For him."

"Not exactly. Not a service as such, at least not one lots of people would come to, I don't think that's a good idea, but just something small for us to sort of stand around with your grandmother and...say goodbye."

"Y-you've got to be kidding."

"I'm not. Your grandmother really wants to come. I spoke to her this afternoon, she's booked flights."

"Ok, i-if you and Grandma are having...actual conversations about it, it's probably a bad idea."

"Well, we had one thing in common and he's gone, so."

"Yeah. Good r-riddance."

She looked him in the eye. "You don't mean that."

"I do! You don't...seriously want me to...come?"

"Of course I do. I would like your support, and also for your own sake I think it's really important for you to do it. The reason we have funerals is that when somebody dies you need to give your brain and your heart a chance to process it properly. A funeral is a time that's set aside that's socially acceptable for us to feel what we need to feel, say what we need to say, and put it to rest. If you don't get to do that, you won't get over it."

"I don't even w-want to think about him."

"I know you don't , but that won't make it go away."

"I'm going to go to...Uncle Hank's f-funeral."

"Yeah. Of course you are. That'll be very different, that'll be lots of people singing the praises of a man who lived his life well and saying how sad they are that he's gone. I don't expect that to happen on Sunday, I really don't. I don't know what I'm going to say or feel. I'm in two minds and two hearts about it. But given the enormous role your father played in our lives for a very long time, I really think we need a chance to say goodbye to him. And to properly close that chapter in our lives."

"Is Aunt...Marie coming?"

"I haven't told her. Do you think I should?"

"I know sh-she would agree with me that he was a...a dick and an asshole a-and he doesn't deserve anyone to cry any tears or p-pay any respect!"

"Yeah, that's why I haven't told her."

"W-why have you told me then?"

"Because you're his son, and you always adored him. You made a fundraising website to try and save his life. You didn't want him to die."

"N-no I didn't want him to die! He died because he's a cop out! A...coward! It makes me...even more...angry with him!"

"Yell at his coffin, then. Funerals are for getting emotion out - anger is an emotion."

"Seriously? Y-you want me to go there and...yell at him?"

"If that's what you want to do, yeah. The point of the funeral is it puts you in a place where you are forced to confront everything you feel about this person and every impact that their death has on you. Once you confront that, you feel better about it."

"Th-this from a woman wh-who's never honest about...anything and who represses... all emotions as much as sh-she possibly can."

Skyler nodded. "Yeah. And that has bit me on the ass a fair few times, so this time I would actually like to confront something and allow myself to feel it."

"D-do I get a choice?"

"I'd rather you went willingly."

"I don't want to go."

Tears came to Skyler's eyes.

Flynn rolled his. "Seriously? D-do I have to?"

"No."

Flynn frowned and crossed his arms.

"You can't tell me that you didn't love him."

"I did then. I don't now."

"It doesn't work like that. You can't turn it off."

"No, I haven't...turned it off, I've just replaced it with h-hating him instead. Y-you know what really pisses me off? The fact that...I-I never got to talk to him about it. That I n-never… I never...got to give him a piece of my mind. Pr-properly, I mean I know I talked to him th...the phone, but I w-was so angry that I…" Flynn's volume fell all of a sudden, and he fingered his fork absently. "I hung up on him," he finished.

"Do you regret that?"

He shrugged.

"It won't be a standard funeral where someone stands at the front and says stuff and there's a program and people sing…. Well there might be a bit of that because your grandmother's paying for it so I have to do what she wants. But what I really want is for us to just stand around and talk and feel and let out whatever we need to."

"So I can just scr-scream and yell at him."

"Yep. I think it's important for you to let that out."

"What's Grandma...g-going to think about that?"

"She's not flying in until 12:15, so I was thinking we could do that in the morning and then do what she wants in the afternoon."

"Well in that case, I'm...going in the morning and I'm not...going in the afternoon. I don't want to...have to watch what I say around Gr-Grandma. A-and I don't want to spend the entire day at...a funeral for an asshole that we're better off without."

Skyler nodded. "That's ok."

"What about...Aunt Marie?"

Skyler sighed. "What do you think?"

"She might want...to yell at him t-too."

"Yeah. She might."

...

"So CSI are finished finished in here now?" asked ASAC Hoffman as he stepped into the white power gang's club room.

"Yeah," said Agent Martinez, stepping in ahead of him and looking around the room. There were still tags, numbers and body outlines everywhere, but the physical evidence had been removed. Apart from the blood stains.

"Welker was over that side," said Detective Roberts, pointing. "Shot in the head with his own gun."

"The machine gun didn't kill him?" asked Hoffman.

"No, there were two who weren't killed by the machine gun. Welker had a few other bullets in him so he probably would have bled out sooner than White did, but rather than wait for that, it looks like White picked up Welker's gun and shot him in the head with it. At least, Fingerprints are pretty sure it was him. The other was Todd Alquist. He didn't have any bullets in him at all, not sure where he was when it went off, perhaps outside? He was strangled and then his neck was broken from behind. Chain found around his neck."

"Violent," grunted Martinez, who was looking at the items in the TV cabinet on the far side of the room.

"Pinkman's prints on the chain."

"Really? So he was still working with White after all this time?"

"No, I doubt it. White just wandered in seeking revenge, he didn't care who was here."

"He didn't kill Pinkman, though."

"No."

"How does that fit with your little theory that the reason the white power brothers were in To'Hajiilee was White wanted them to kill Pinkman?

"Either he changed his mind or Pinkman got lucky."

"You're still sticking to your theory then?" Hoffman sniggered

"Yeah. White was almost 30 years older than Pinkman and he had advanced cancer. I don't think he would have been able to take him if the machine gun didn't get him. And maybe the machine gun missed him by accident, like Alquist."

"Oh my God!" said Martinez, who was pushing buttons on the TV and entertainment system. "Sir!"

"Yeah?" Hoffman began to walk over him, picking his way around the blood patches.

"Oh my God."

"What?"

"That's Hank's writing!" He held out a home burned DVD to Hoffman. Written on the disc in black marker were the words, "Pinkman, Jesse. Interview 3/12/10."

Hoffman gasped. "Where did you find that?"

"In the DVD player!"

"What is it?" asked Roberts.

"It's Hank and Steve's recording of Pinkman's confession!" Martinez grinned.


	8. Chapter 8

"Mrs White, you stated in one of your earlier interviews that one day when you were running A1A Car Wash, your husband made you close it for the day so that he could store a trailer containing a large quantity of, quote, 'some kind of clear liquid'. Do you recall saying that?"

"Yes."

"Any idea what that liquid was?"

"No. It was something valuable. I assume some chemical used in making methamphetamine."

"Did you ask your husband what it was?"

"Yes, and he didn't tell me."

"What were his words exactly?"

"I think he didn't say anything at all. I think he just said, 'I'll be back for it later today', or something like that."

"In response to your question of, 'What is it?'"

"If Walt didn't want to answer a question, he just wouldn't answer it."

Agent Martinez nodded. "Did he say anything else? Before he left you with this trailer?"

"He told me to stay in the office and call him if anyone approached. He said not to approach them, just call him."

"And did anyone approach?"

"No."

"And after a few hours Walt came and took it away himself."

"Yes, he and Jesse Pinkman."

"Can you describe the truck that they took the trailer away on?"

"I'm not sure the make and model, but it was older. 80s maybe. Cream or white coloured. The insignia on the driver's door said 'Vamonos Pest'."

"And did Walter say anything to you about that?"

"No."

"Did Pinkman?"

"Pinkman saw me looking at it and said, 'Vamonos.' I assume he intended to be ironic."

"Ironic how?"

"Because he and whatever liquid was in that trailer were going to vamonos off from my car wash."

"And did Walt say anything more about it? Either then, or at another time?"

"No."

"Agent, where is this going?" Skyler's lawyer stepped in. "This is all information my client has already provided."

"Oh, I know. Just trying to see if she recalls anything further. Did you ask Walt about it again?"

"No."

"Did you wonder?"

"Yes, but I learnt very early on that with Walt's activities, the less I wondered the better."

"Why was that?"

"Because it was frightening and revolting and I couldn't do anything about it, so why should I upset myself?"

"So you didn't attempt to draw any conclusions of your own as to what that liquid might have been or where it might have come from?"

"No."

"You didn't make any connections in your mind with anything else that might have been happening at that time? Or shortly before it?"

Skyler thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I didn't have any more information about it or anything connected to it. I had no idea what Walt was doing."

"You ever heard of a freight train called the CSW40?"

"No."

Martinez paused, drawing out the interrogation as far as he possibly could. He cleared his throat, and looked at his fingernails. "You sure about that?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"You stated that around the same time, but before the Vamonos Pest truck left a large container of an unknown liquid in your car wash, that your husband came home late one evening covered in dust, and when you asked him where he been, he said, 'Robbing a train.'"

"Actually I asked him if he'd been out burying bodies. Because he was covered in dirt and I knew he had killed someone before that, so."

"Oh yeah, it's interesting that you bring that up, because have you ever heard of a kid called Drew Sharp?"

Skyler's eyes flicked wide open, and her heart jumped into her throat. The DEA had done this many times before, asking her a series of inane questions before shocking her with a revelation of something disgusting and terrifying her husband had done. It was news to her every time, and she wasn't sure why they kept doing it, because it had never caused her to come up with any more information than she had already told them.

"You heard of him?"

"Yeah, h-he...he was a kid who went missing in Whitehorse County."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw it on the news."

"Walt didn't mention it?"

"No."

Martinez paused for effect. "The CSW40 goes through Whitehorse County."

Blood began to pound in Skyler's ears.

"When do you think, in your memory - which I know is not exact - you said that the trailer in the car wash was a little over a month after Gustavo Fring died, and that the robbing a train comment was a little before that. When do you think you saw on the news that Drew Sharp was missing?"

Skyler swallowed, tears coming to her eyes.

"Agent, asking my client to pontificate on when she thinks she might have seen an item on the news is hardly her providing you with information on crimes you are trying to solve."

"Oh I know, I know. I'm just wondering if she made the connection. Did your husband do or say anything in relation to those news reports?"

Skyler paused, thinking. "Not that I noticed," she said. "He did when that other kid Tomas Cantillo died, I remember that. He ran out of the house when that news report came on. But umm...but…"

"But Drew Sharp?"

"No." Skyler gasped, the tingling feeling beginning to spread over her whole body. She looked down, then met Martinez's eyes. "What did Walt do to him?" she asked.

"Oh Walt didn't kill the kid, no, kid was killed by Todd Alquist. But Walt came up with the idea to put his body and his dirt bike in a plastic barrel filled with hydrochloric acid. Jesse Pinkman, whom you have stated over and over again is a nasty piece of work and that you're afraid of him and that he threatened your family and did all sorts of horrible things, he decided that he couldn't work with Alquist after that. So he quit. He left Walt's methamphetamine business. And Walt employed Alquist, a child killer, as his replacement lab assistant."

Skyler was visibly shaking now, her eyes blurry with tears.

"Agent, what are you trying to achieve? She clearly knows nothing about this!"

"I am educating her!"

"Why? Your job is to get her to tell you things, not for you to tell her things!"

"I just want to make sure she hasn't left anything out. Did Walt say anything else to you," Martinez paused for effect, "...about his great train robbery?"

"Agent, you clearly have this information from some other source; asking Mrs White whether her husband may or may not have said anything about it to her will give you nothing more than hearsay at best, useless in a court of law and particularly pointless given that both White and Alquist are dead."

"I need to make sure I get as much as information as I can for Mr and Mrs Sharp. The poor grieving parents of 14-year-old Drew Sharp. You're a parent, Skyler, you understand that."

Skyler let out a cry.

"Agent, this is causing my client undue emotional distress for no discernible reason. She knows nothing about this. Please stop this line of questioning."

"Sure. Alright. So what are the plans for the funeral, Mrs White?"

"What funeral?" asked the lawyer.

"Her husband's, of course! His body was collected from Albuquerque Morgue today by the White Rose Funeral Home. White is such a symbolofinnocence, isn't it?"

"Agent, just because you are personally offended that you didn't manage to catch your target before he died does not give you the right to taunt my client about things over which she had no control."

"Oh no of course not, I am going somewhere with this. You have stated, Mrs White, that you had no control over what your husband was doing, that he refused to listen to you when you told him you wanted him to stop, that he forced you to join him in his operation, that you felt trapped inside it and unable to ask for help from anyone, unable to tell anyone, unable to get out, and you have stated that you were afraid of him."

Skyler nodded, tears falling now. "Yes," she said.

"Did you hate him?"

Skyler swallowed, looking at Agent Martinez with wide eyes. "No."

"Did you love him?"

"Yes. And can you imagine how hard it is for me to find out what a monster he really was? It was hard enough when I first found out, I was so shocked I kicked him out of the house then. But you, the DEA and the media keep telling me more and more, again and again, intricate terrifying details of just how monstrous he really became, and it makes me want to throw up, because I helped him!" Her voice broke. "I helped him do all that! I'm culpable, I have blood on my hands! And no matter how hard I try, I still can't hate him, but I hate myself!"

"Why did you help him, then?"

"I didn't know! I didn't know how bad it was! It was bad, don't get me wrong, it was bad for me, I was perpetually afraid for months and months but I just didn't know…"

"You know now, though."

"Agent, how is this relevant?"

Martinez held up a finger and pointed it at the lawyer. "I want to know if she was really as afraid of him as she says, or if she was just going along working with him because she wanted the money."

"I didn't!" Skyler sobbed. "I know that's what it looks like, but I didn't choose any of this, I couldn't help what Walt was doing, he wouldn't listen to me! I couldn't get out! If I'd known he was killing children of course I would have tried harder to! But when I found out about it, he was an employee! He was an employee for an illegal drug company and he'd signed a contract he had to fulfill, I thought he'd had bitten off more than he could chew, I thought he didn't know what he was doing and was just trying to make a buck! When I got involved, that's all I thought that was happening!"

"Alright alright alright. I've heard all this before. I just have one more question for you. Why didn't you take the free no mess donate his body to science option?"

Skyler sat back in her chair, trying to get her breathing under control. "Because my mother-in-law wanted a funeral. She's paying for it. I thought it would be a good idea to give my family a chance to let their many and varied emotions regarding Walt out. That is what a funeral is for."

"Your mother-in-law's paying for it?"

"Yes. I told her if she didn't that it wouldn't happen."

"When's it going to happen?"

"None of your business!"

"Don't answer that," said Skyler's lawyer. "That's enough."

...

"You ok?"

"Yeah," Skyler sighed. She didn't look it. The lawyer had slowed his pace by half to wait for her. She was shuffling along the corridor like an old lady. He pressed the button for the elevator, looking at her wearily. The elevator pinged, and they got in.

"He went way too far. He was trying to get a reaction out of you and trying to scare you into saying something that conflicts with something you've said at some other time, or to have your emotions betray you. But you held up really well. Everything you said in this interview tallied with everything you've said on the subject before, and when your emotions broke they showed your genuine shock and horror at discovering something you hadn't known about before. If you did that in a witness box, the jury would swing your way. What I'm saying is, I know you're having a horrible time here, but you are not guilty of anywhere near what they're accusing you of, and that is clear from your face, from your eyes, from your reactions every single time they throw something like that of you. The jury will see that. The DEA can see that too. Martinez's boss was probably standing behind that glass thinking oh shit, she will get the jury's sympathy really well. That's why they keep saying that they'll only give you a deal if you plead guilty. They don't want you to go to trial. All the details will come out in the media about a whole load of crimes they didn't know about and didn't prevent - they wanna keep it quiet. And they definitely don't want you to take the stand."

"What's the latest on the deal?" Skyler sniffed.

"Oh, just give me time. Time will break them. If they're not on board with us a week from now, we should leak it to the media. If the people of Albuquerque knew the DEA was sitting on the location of its two missing agents and doing nothing about it, they'd be crucified in the papers."

...

Skyler put her car in drive, hunched over the steering wheel. She pulled out at an angle, straightened up shakily, then sat in the right-hand lane doing 10 miles under the speed limit. She figured it was safer that way. Honestly, when she got like this, she didn't feel safe to drive.

She couldn't concentrate on anything around her. She shook her head repeatedly to try and get back her focus. At an intersection near her home, she was nearly hit by another car when she failed to notice a light go red. Her heart jolting into her mouth, she squealed through the intersection and then hit the kerb as she pulled over on the other side of it. She sat there for five minutes with her hazard lights on trying to catch her breath. After counting down slowly from 10 four times, she moved off.

"Should we pull her over for dangerous driving?" asked one of the DEA agents who were tailing her.

"No, that's APD's job."

"Martinez clearly did a number on her."

"Yeah. I don't know why he and Hoffman want us to do this. What's it going to prove? She's half crazy. We're going to spend however many days watching a crazy lady go to work and come home, if she even manages that, and then we're going to follow her to husband's funeral. Big whoop. What the hell are we supposed to get out of that?"

"Well if we were observing her bounding happily down the street kicking her heels right now, it would tell us a hell of a lot."

"Yeah, but she's not. She's shaking and quite possibly mentally ill to the point of endangering all of the drivers on this road right now. How is this a good day's work for us?"

...

Skyler let herself into the house, ate a bowl of ice cream and then went upstairs to bed, where she lay curled up in the foetal position staring at the wall. She didn't move for two hours. Then she got up briskly and prepared for work. She did her mental check and found she felt a bit better. Enough to go to work, anyway. It was only a short shift. The evening shift, the one that took up the entire evening and all of her family time, but paid her less than all the others because it was shorter.

She got home at 11:45 to find Flynn was still up and watching The Late Show on television.

"Hey, honey," she said.

"Hey Mom," said Flynn. "There's some dinner…o-on a plate in the fridge for you."

"Thank you." Skyler opened the fridge and looked at the dinner plate, asking herself if she was hungry or not. The sound of the TV reached her ears.

"Well David, the big question I have been asking myself is _why_ did Walter White do this?"

"Yes, why does a school teacher just up and decide to become a drug lord? Mid-life crisis?"

"No, well yeah, maybe; that's a pretty primitive term to describe it, but yes, there's plenty of literature on that. No, I'm talking about this final thing that he's done. Setting off a remotely triggered machine gun to kill eight men, and then putting himself in the firing line too. His psychology has demonstrated that he was quite a brash man who would come out all guns blazing on certain issues, who would not do things by half measures. His final act is characteristic of that, however everything else he's done has been motivated by self-interest. Sometimes it was for money, sometimes it was to protect himself, occasionally perhaps it was to protect the people on his team, although he switched teams so often that really doesn't stand up as an argument."

"Do you mean the fall out with Gustavo Fring?"

"Yeah, well that's a good example of a time when White acted quite brashly, I mean he was the new kid in town and he was taking on a massive drug lord, but it was clearly done in his self-interest. Market, money, perhaps protection because Fring could kill him too as soon as look at him, and the fact that that killing was carried out remotely to White himself - he built a bomb and gave it to someone else, he wasn't directly in the vicinity - that is indicative of fear of what may happen if he was in closer. Again, self-interest and self-preservation being forefront in his mind. But this time, he stood right in front of the machine gun. He claimed that these eight men had stolen his money, which has been confirmed by the fact that the DEA found $40 million there with - did they find his fingerprints on it?"

"Yeah, they found his and his wife's fingerprints on the money."

"Right, so rather than kill all those guys and take his money back, White stands in front of the machine gun himself. Perhaps not directly in front of it because he's not killed instantly, but he sustains a fatal injury. And then he makes no attempt to run or hide, to try and save himself or to take back the money, he just hangs out until the police get there."

"Could that have been unintentional, though? He intended to get away but he was too badly injured?"

"No I don't think so, he walked into the headquarters of a gang of killers. He walked in there alone. Even if he hadn't been in front of his own machine gun, there are many other ways in which he could have got killed there, it's just not a scenario a normal guy can walk away from. For everything else he did, he always had an exit plan, a strategy, but this time he didn't. And he may have had some desire to commit suicide or euthanasia because he had advanced cancer and was going to die anyway, and it could be argued that it was therefore in his interest to die rather than be arrested. If he had two options, die free or die in custody, he was definitely the sort of guy who would want to die free. But the thing is, the authorities had no idea where he was until a couple of days before that. He brought himself back into the limelight when he went back to Albuquerque. Why did he do that if the only two things that could happen to him there were that he would either die or be arrested?"

"Maybe he wanted to be with his family? To be home?"

"No, if that were the case, he would have sought that out more. Instead, he sought out killing eight scary criminal guys and then not trying to get away and not trying to get the money back. Why?"

"Maybe he was sick of all of it. Wanted to die, wanted to clear out the scumbags of Albuquerque while he was doing it."

"The first thing makes a lot of sense, the second doesn't. This is a man who's never done anything altruistic in his life. No, those guys had done something to really really piss him off and he wanted his own back."

"They stole his money."

"But he didn't try to get it back, and anyway people do not typically commit crimes of this scale of violence and destruction for money alone."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're talking to professor John Collins, criminologist from NYU, we will be back after these short messages."

"M-mom?" said Flynn, standing up.

Skyler, who was hunched over the table eating her meal, turned around. "Yeah?"

"D-do you think that's...true?"

She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. "They were the men who killed Uncle Hank," she said. "I'm sure of it."

"How d-do you know that?"

"Because he told me."

"But he...l-lied all the time."

"He told me and, as that professor says, why else would he do that?"

Flynn nodded. "Why are you s-sure, though? That's a...strong word."

"Because I am. Call it a belief if you want."

"You're sure that Dad...d-didn't kill Uncle Hank?"

"Yes."


	9. Chapter 9

Skyler and Flynn arrived at White Rose Funeral Home at just after 10 on Sunday morning. They were lead to a small room at the back that had broad windows made of stained glass. In the middle of the room, on a trolley, sat the coffin of Walter Hartwell White.

Skyler and Flynn stood and looked at it for a long time, saying nothing. Skyler felt conflicted. Her heart was being pulled in two different directions, horror on one side, love on the other. She had hoped that she would find things she wanted to say, but she couldn't think of anything. She stood, her jaw clenched and her hands balled into fists, her eyes burning with tears.

Flynn stepped forward. "Hey Dad," he said. "I just...I just wanted to say...w-what the fuck were you doing? W-we had a good life together and we were...a happy family a-and then you got sick, and we...were sad about that but we w-were...dealing with it, and if you had just...d-died of the illness, we could have a normal funeral right now. We c-could have lots...of friends and family around giving...giving us condolences, g-giving us support, and e-everyone being sad that you're gone. But instead, for s-some reason I don't understand, y-you decided to do...so many stupid, h-horrible things that have...destroyed us. M-Mom said that...y-you said you wanted to do that because you...wanted to...leave us money when you were gone. That is so r-ridiculous it is...laughable! We lost our house, M-Mom lost her job, now she...has to d-do a shitty job at stupid hours for al-almost no...pay because n-nobody wants to employ her. I have to do a sh-shitty job too, I can't afford...to go to college, w-we live in an awful...l-little house that's so cramped we can...barely move around in it, I can't have a car, I have to take the b-bus to school, the kids and teachers at school either m-make fun of me for being a poor kid or...for having a messed up family life, or...or they give me the most s-sickening looks of pity. And y-you know me, y-you know the last thing I ever...wanted was pity... A-and neither did you, asshole! Now...b-because of you, I have to...deal with...dodging nasty comments at school, d-dodging nasty comments on the street, n-not being able to...concentrate...on anything and g-getting terrible marks b-because how am I supposed to handle any of this, f-feeling extra...bad about myself for n-not being able to do...well because the only way I can get to college now is if I...g-get a scholarship, e-explaining and justifying my family...everywhere I go, s-standing up for my m-mom in the school and the s-supermarket and...the street when assholes say… h-horrible things about her, I h-have to take the school bus with f-freshmen and s-sophomores because they...are the only kids in the school who...can't drive apart from me, the bullies laugh at me e-every day as I get o-off the bus, the bus driver...b-belittles me by keeping the bus stopped for a r-really long time while I get my seat, teachers keep giving me pass outs a-and extra time and special treatment, I get dr-dragged out of class to go to a...counsellor...e-every single week, the p-principal pulls me into...her office to...ask me how am I doing and sh-she thinks that she's being…kind, but b-being called into the principal's office is...never a good thing. I had to get a...job because my family has no money e-even though I have barely any time to do...school work...a-as it is, given how...freaking long it takes on the bus to...get to and fr-from. We...have to eat the most...boring food be...cause w-we can't afford anything….nice, we….can't do a-anything fun, we can't...go anywhere nice, th-there's no money for...chocolate, movies, l-laser tag, video games, and I...c-can't even go to L-Louis's house because it's too...far away from my house, a-and I can't drive!"

Flynn paused, breathless. Skyler stood behind him, her heart breaking, not a single thing she could do to make any of it better.

Flynn took a breath. "That's...all because of you, Dad, y-you...you've ruined...my life, but I don't even f-feel I have the right to be com...plaining this much about it b-because my family's...lives got ruined way worse than m-mine did, and...Uncle Hank got...killed!"

Flynn's volume and pitch rose, and Skyler stepped forward and put an arm around his waist, and her head on his shoulder. She was at the same time relieved that he was letting all this out, and devastated to know that he was suffering it. And most of it had never even said before. Flynn used to say when something upset him. Now he rarely did. He just bore it, and bore it while giving her the most invaluable support she had ever received.

"Aunt Marie...is heartbroken forever, sh-she's doing much better now b-but I can see it in her eyes; H-holly still...gets scared and clingy sometimes, and Mom is ... M-Mom has changed so much, she's a...a shadow of who she used to be, she's s-sad all the time, she...never...smiles, sometimes sh-she gets so scared she's shaking, and...she blames herself for everything, and I'm...really worried that she'll n-never forgive herself and...she'll never get b-better, and how can she when people y-yell at her...on the street and the DEA...do everything they can to s-scare her, and sh-she's going to have to go to...prison, all because of you!"

Flynn's was yelling now, screaming, and Skyler gripped him tighter. He took her hand in his. She closed her eyes.

"W-what really makes...me feel s-sick about all of it is that I helped you! I looked...looked up to you! I h-hung on your every word, and...all the while you were doing _that_!"

"That wasn't your fault," Skyler whispered.

Flynn took another deep breath and began to yell again. "I chose you...over Mom and Uncle Hank and...Aunt Marie s-so many times, w-when all the while you were destroying them! You...taught me to love my family, you taught me that...family is r-really important, and then you...pissed all over it!"

Breathing hard, Flynn transferred his right crutch into his left hand so he could put one arm around his mother's neck as she cried. He didn't say anything more.


	10. Chapter 10

Marie sat on her balcony looking out across the desert, a cup of coffee going cold in her hands. She'd gone back and forth in her mind a lot over whether to go to the "funeral" or not. She did like the idea of yelling at Walt's coffin, but was concerned that she would be more likely to break down and become speechless. In her mind, that would mean he got the last say, and she couldn't handle that.

So she sat. And she waited.

...

Eventually Skyler realised that Flynn's legs were shaking and that she must be leaning on him too strongly, so she pulled him back to the chairs at the edge of the room and they sat down. "Can we talk about the good times?" she asked.

"W-what good times?"

"From before all this... family board games night. Bacon numbers. All those trips to the science museum."

"N-no. My memory of...all those has been r-ruined by what he did."

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen. It doesn't mean that we weren't happy then."

"I-it was a lie. It obviously meant...nothing to him if he can...just piss all over it like that."

Skyler shook her head. "That's not true. Do you think about them, though? Do you think about how he used to be?"

"No. I think about how w-we used to be and...how much we l-lost."

"Yeah, I think about that. I envy you. For being able to sustain that anger. I could never keep that up. Now all I can think of is how he used to be."

"It's l-like he became a d-different person. I don't...understand it. He was a cr-crazy pathetic asshole."

"Do you remember the talking pillow night?"

Flynn's jaw hardened. "Mom, I didn't come here for you to...tr-try and make me go...wishy washy. I came to y-yell at him. That's it."

"I'm genuinely asking you. I envy your anger. I envy your strength."

"Well it's really simple, y-you...think about all the...horrible things Dad did to a-all the people you love, and...th-then you wanna scream."

"For the people I love, I just blame myself. For others, the horrifying facts that get thrown at me by the DEA and the news, it makes me feel physically sick, and this feeling spreads throughout my whole body, tingling and blood pounding and panicking, and then it goes away. It goes all foggy in my mind and I forget about it. And then all I can remember is how much I love him."

"I can't think about...the things he did to other people much ei-either. Because...they're too awful. B-but I think about the things he did to us."

"He didn't mean to hurt us."

"Really? H-he didn't mean to...hurt Uncle Hank?"

Skyler almost said no, but then she remembered about the blackmail, which Flynn still didn't know about. And so she was silent.

"I really loved Uncle Hank." Flynn's eyes moistened.

"You really loved your dad too."

"Yeah I did, I really did, a-and he betrayed us. The fact that...I love him m-makes it feel even w-worse."

"Yeah, I know."

"And he's just c-copped out, he's just quit life without...giving any of us a chance to… w-without…" Flynn's voice broke. "I didn't even get to see him. H-he was at our house l-like 10 minutes before...I got home. A-and he...didn't even s-stick around to...see me."

"The police were coming."

"Yeah, because you called them a-after he...left. If he'd...just stayed, y-you wouldn't have called them, I know y-you wouldn't."

"Would you have? If you'd walked in and found him there?"

Flynn shrugged. "Depends if he was...threatening you with a knife o-or not."

Skyler's eyes snapped shut, and she put her hand to her forehead. "I pulled the knife, Flynn." she said. "That was me."

Flynn began to cry. "You de… you were def- defending us, a-and he just threw you on the f-floor, and…"

Skyler put her arms around him.

"What kind of a man d-does that?"

They gripped each other and sobbed for some minutes. Skyler's own trauma was pulsing through her body, but she had to set the record straight. She made several false starts where she began to speak and then was prevented by sobs. Finally she managed to utter a gasping plea, her voice high and weak. "Don't remember him like that," she said. "P-please." Her voice shook. "It was...we-we both panicked in the same moment and it was like… it was like an explosion. And I guess it had been building up from everything that happened before, I know it had been for me, but in that moment the shit hit the fan and I snapped...and so did he. We shouldn't hav- I can't believe we did that in front of the two of you, it-" Skyler broke down again.

Flynn held her as tightly as he could. "Mom, it-it wasn't your fault, he th-threw you to the ground."

"To get the knife! He was trying to get the knife off me!"

"He didn't need to th-throw you...to the ground to do that. H-he didn't...n-need to lie on top of you and...push you into the floor."

"We both snapped, we both panicked. It had been building up for a long time, you didn't see that part but..."

"W-what I saw was...a man who threw his wife to the floor b-because he didn't like being told no. Th-then he picked up his...i-infant daughter and r-ran away with her because...she was the only one who couldn't say no to him! A-and he was...just like that, wasn't he? A-all the time."

"No he wasn't. He didn't mean to hurt us."

"He could never...be told no, he always got his own way, all-all the time! Even in his...death he got his own way, w-with...no thought to the consequences for...us!"

Skyler continued to cry.

Flynn's message tone went off. It was Marie. "How's it going?"

"I'm angry and Mom's sad. So pretty much as expected," he texted back.

...

Marie put her phone down and crossed her arms. Much as she did want to be understanding and support Skyler, it was quite hard for her to see her going to pieces over the man who had caused her own husband's death. Marie had wanted to kill Walt for what he had done. She wanted her sister to be relieved that he was dead. But it wasn't that simple. She did know how much Skyler loved Walt, and that's why she was the one who had been hurt the most by him. Dave had explained in their latest session that this wasn't simple grief, that she was probably feeling a whole range of emotions for a whole range of different reasons, some conscious and some not. Most of them not understandable by Marie. Which left her feeling rather helpless. She frowned and leaned back on the couch. Then she sat up again. "Fuck you, Walt," she said, and stood up. She grabbed her handbag and headed out the door.

...

Flynn couldn't stop thinking about how hard it was to reconcile the father he had loved with all his heart to the angry and violent man who had done all this. He felt his anger slipping away, and he hated it when that happened. When that happened, he got sad. He felt small and helpless. Powerless. Devastated.

Skyler looked at her watch. "I have to go and get your grandmother," she sniffed.

"Are-are you alright to drive?"

Skyler shrugged. "I'll manage."

"I can do it."

"But then you'd have to come back here. You said you didn't want to."

"I don't know. But...you're shaking and y-you don't look ok to...drive."

Skyler looked at him. "Ok. Thank you."

...

Patricia White stood outside the arrivals section of the airport terminal, as close to the edge of it as she could because she wanted to be as far away from the people, cars and taxis as possible. She gripped her handbag close to her chest and looked at her watch.

Eventually, a beat up brown Corolla pulled up. She stepped away, wary of it, but then her grandson got out. "Hi Grandma," he said, leaning in to kiss her awkwardly on the cheek.

"You've grown like a weed!" she said.

"Thanks!" He smiled.

"Is this your car? It looks most unsavoury."

"No, i-it's Mom's." Flynn open the passenger door to let her in. "H-have you got any bags?"

"No, no bags." She didn't get in, continuing to stare at the car with a dubious expression on her face. "Your mother's? Is it safe?"

"Oh yeah, Mom's...very big on s-safety. It looks aw-awful, but...it's fine to drive."

Patricia stepped awkwardly into the car, trying and failing not to sit on a rather obvious hole in the fabric of the passenger seat. "I thought she had higher standards than this," she said.

"She does. Dad p-pulled the rug out from under us, a-and the DEA took...everything we had, so Mom doesn't...have any money. Th-this is the best she could get."

Patricia looked out the window, her lips set in a thin line. "I hate airports," she said.

...

All Marie really wanted to do was go downtown; that was her favourite place for shopping and she thought shopping would be as distracting and healing as anything else right now, but she couldn't do it downtown because she hadn't been there since the day of Hank's death, and she knew that fact would distress her considerably. Dave told her that staying away wasn't helpful, and she was working up to it, she could visit almost everywhere on Central now. But not quite into downtown.

So instead she went to a large mall near her house and bought some new shoes and clothes, had a frozen yoghurt in the food court, and then went into a homeware store to see if they had those little sticky hooks you can use to hang things on walls. Since Hank had done all the DIY, Marie didn't have a clue how to hang a picture on a wall, but she figured those sticky things would be easier than nails.

She didn't like the attitude of the shop assistant she'd asked for help - he didn't seem to understand her reasoning behind wanting sticky hooks at all, and just kept pointing out flaws with all of the different kinds the store stocked. "To hang a picture as big as that, you really need something better," he said. "Especially if it's framed. A hardware store will have bigger hooks, and also-"

"No, but I don't want to use nails."

He shrivelled up his nose. "A hardware store _might_ have adhesive hooks big enough to hang what you want to hang, but I'm not sure. Either way, if they exist, we don't stock them."

"Fine. Thank you." Marie sighed and put the packet back. She didn't want her newly framed enlarged photograph of her and Hank to fall onto the floor. She started walking out of the store, but stopped by a display of fridge magnets at the end of the aisle. One had a cute picture of a smiling sunflower on it. Marie looked at it for a long while, then slipped it into her bag and walked out of the store.


	11. Chapter 11

It hit Flynn when the final hymn started. It was just a short song to finish off the service, and it wasn't a piece of music that meant anything to him, in fact he thought the words seemed quite bizarre given the situation, but it had been chosen by his grandmother. He didn't mind that, but the fact that he was standing in an almost empty chapel with his mother, grandmother, a minister and his father's coffin, having just heard the minister give a simple summary of his father's life, which was now clearly and definitely over, finally enabled his mind to settle on an emotion, and that emotion was devastation.

It had been creeping up on him all day, first with anger, then uncertainty, then sadness, but during that hymn it suddenly hit him with an enormous wallop and made him bend over double and weep. Skyler swept him into her arms and sat him down, cradling his head on her shoulder. Patricia, the only one left standing for the hymn, watched them, her hard set features fading.

...

The two DEA agents sitting in their car outside White Rose Funeral Home were beyond bored. Agent Thompson was eating chips. Agent Fornes was texting. He hit send, then put his phone back in his pocket and stretched. "Could this be any more boring?" he asked.

"I know. But it'll be over soon."

"Are you sure of that? Seems like Scott's got us tailing Skyler White until he can pull a bunny out of his ass."

"My missus said now that Walter White's murdered half of the meth suppliers in the Southwest, we're gonna be out of a job soon."

"What? Don't be ridiculous. Something else will start up, it always does."

"Yeah. Work is just really boring in the meantime is all. Especially since that Jesse Pinkman DVD's solved half the open cases we had on our books, and pinned every single one on someone who's dead."

"There's lots of mop up work with that, surely. Why do we get stuck with this boring shit?"

"This is mop up. Follow Walter White to his fucking funeral."

"Well you never know, Jesse Pinkman might show up. Pay his respects to his former teacher."

"That'd be nice," said Thompson. "I'd like to be the guy that got him."

"Here they come."

Skyler, Patricia and Flynn emerged from the funeral home. Flynn and Patricia began walking towards the car, while Skyler stood outside the building having a smoke.

"Don't you ever start smoking, Walter, do you hear? Your mother is not setting you a good example."

"Don't worry Grandma, I-I think it's gross too. Can you please n-not call me that?"

"Why not? It's your name!"

"No it isn't, I ch- I changed it. I'm in the...process of changing it, anyway. Just w-waiting on a court order for it."

"What? Why?"

...

Marie made it to the hardware store, and the man there was more helpful on the one in the homeware store. He picked out the right hooks for her, and gave her an explanation of how to use them. She thanked him and made her way towards the register, checking her phone as she went. No calls or messages. She brought up Skyler's number and paused, not sure if she should phone or not. But she knew that she was falling over the edge herself, and she thought her sister might be able to talk her out of it. So she dialled.

"Hi," came Skyler's voice on the other end of the line, quiet and defeated.

"Oh. That didn't sound like a very good hi."

"Yeah, well, my mother-in-law is here."

"Oh! Right. Tricky. How's it going?"

"Just finished. We're going to get Holly now, she wants to see her."

"Good, ok, listen. This is something Hank used to help me with but now I need you to help me. Well, for obvious reasons, I mean there isn't anybody else now."

"Sure. What's up?"

"I'm in a store, and I need you to tell me to make my purchases and leave."

Skyler started walking towards the car. "What do you mean?"

Marie looked warily at a shop assistant who was walking past her. "I mean...just that. I need your help. Can't say anything more."

The penny dropped. "Oh god, Marie, yes, please just make your purchases and leave the store right now!" She stopped and turned away from the car, walking back towards the funeral home entrance.

"I'm really... struggling."

"So am I, honey, but it'll be ok. All you need to do is make your purchases and leave the store. Or put your purchases down and leave the store."

"Put them down is not a good idea, put them down is probably going to lead to…"

"Ok, just go to the register. You can do that. How far away is that?

"It's a hardware store, it's pretty far."

"That's ok, just start walking and keep talking to me. And I will remind you that you and I are the only two adults Holly has, and it would really not be good if both of us were facing charges."

"Yeah I know, that's why I'm trying really hard here."

Skyler leaned against the wall of the funeral home, one hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "This is my fault, isn't it?" She took another cigarette out of her pocket and lit it.

"Oh no, not necessarily. It's more of a cumulative thing."

"Should I not have told you? About the funeral? It was awful, by the way. If that makes you feel any better. Walt would have really hated it, though, so that's something I suppose."

"Really?" Marie quickened her pace. "Was it really generic?"

"Yes. And religious."

"Really? Is that down to your mother-in-law?"

"Absolutely."

Marie grinned. "Awesome. He would have really hated that."

"Yep."

"That's incredible, thanks Sky. I'm at the register now. There's a line." Marie's eye fell on the candy bars next to the register.

"Ok, well whatever you do, don't look at those things they're selling there."

Marie looked up. There was a security camera right above her. "Yep," she said. "So where is your mother-in-law now?"

"Waiting for me in the car with Flynn. And giving me death stares."

"Flynn went? He said he wasn't going to!"

"Yeah. Some emotion came out, which was good for him."

"It must be very confusing for him." Marie looked at the candy bars again.

"Yeah. Must be pretty confusing for you too."

"Yes. That's true."

"Well, thanks for calling me in spite of that."

"You're thanking me for calling you to ask you for a favour?"

"Yes. Call me when you need help. Always. That's a really big step for you, calling for help. That's awesome."

"Thank you."

"We have to try to sort our lives out together. The kids need us."

Marie smiled. "We'll be fine." She reached the register, paid for her hooks and walked out.

...

The good news came on Wednesday morning in the form of a phone call from Skyler's lawyer. "Can we meet?" he asked. "I've got something I want to run by you, I think you'll like it."

Skyler was doing a short shift that day, so she met him in his tiny office downtown after she finished.

"Do you have something from the DEA?" she asked.

"Yeah. I spent a large portion of yesterday with them. First thing is, they want you to sign a non-disclosure agreement regarding this because they don't want anyone to know that they have let you sit on this information for two weeks already. They wanna make it look like they found the bodies themselves with their good old fashioned police work."

"That's fine. I don't want anybody knowing I sat on it for two weeks either."

"That's good."

"I told my son and my sister about it, though."

"Ok, then they will probably have to sign agreements too."

"Sure."

"The second thing is, and as you know, this was unlikely anyway, they will not agree to a non-custodial sentence."

Skyler nodded.

"And if the court decides to impose fines, not even bankruptcy will get you out of paying them. However, what the DEA will do if you give them your information is drop all the other charges against you, apart from the money laundering."

Skyler frowned. "Even profiting from a felony?"

"Well our argument has always been that you were forced into that, that you were not in charge of what money was coming in or how it was spent. Everything that was bought with it has now been confiscated and the feds are happy to wash their hands of it. But they will not wash their hands of the money laundering, and I think this is mainly because with Jesse Pinkman, Mike Ehrmantraut and Saul Goodman being missing, and apparently everyone else being dead, you are the only person they can put to trial, and money laundering was your part in the whole thing. That was your cog in the wheel. They're not going to let that go."

"That's fair enough. Dropping the other charges is amazing, thank you."

"What they want you to do is to plead guilty to money laundering now, but I would advise against that because I think we can get better sentencing options if it faces trial, maybe even knock it back to a misdemeanour if you can look good in front of the jury. And we want the jury to hear that phone call."

"So they're not willing to make any concessions on sentencing at all?"

"They want a custodial sentence and they know we'd be stupid not to take a deal that drops all the other charges. I am still trying to get it written into the deal that they will push for sentencing at the lower end of the scale, but they haven't yet agreed to that."

"So if I take the deal, I am still facing up to the maximum sentence for money laundering."

"Technically yes, but it's very unlikely. You have a strong case for trial. And you never know, they might offer you a plea bargain at the last minute with sentencing at the lower end of the scale. Right now, I think dropping all the other charges is a pretty good deal and I think you should take it."


	12. Chapter 12

ASACs Ramey and Hoffman pulled up at the far edge of the police line in a cloud of red dirt. Before them, spread out across the small valley between two rocky outcrops, were scores of CSI officers combing the desert with brushes, shovels and metal detectors, scores more DEA agents standing around, and one little white tent.

Hoffman stepped down first and held the door open for his boss. "Beautiful spot, isn't it, sir?"

Ramey looked around. "Oddly, yes. I guess it is."

Hoffman led Ramey around the outside of the police tape. "CSI haven't checked this bit yet," he explained. "They're starting in the middle and working their way out. No way to tell at this late stage how many vehicles or people were here, but they have found a hell of a lot of shells and bullets."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, there was a pretty big gun battle here."

Ramey chuckled. "I don't think anything less could take out Hank."

Hoffman smiled. "That's a very good point. Ah, up to half a dozen different kinds of weapons, so we are looking at a decent amount of people having been here. Once the ballistic tests are done they'll be able to tell us how many individual weapons there were, and compare them with the weapons found at Garden Park."

They got close to the tent, and Hoffman called out to a CSI officer who was standing beside it. "Hey, Josh!"

Josh walked towards them, the red sand making odd patterns on the white cloth covering his boots.

"This is ASAC Ramey," said Hoffman. "He's just flown in from El Paso."

"Good to meet you, sir," said Josh.

"Tell him what you told me."

"Sure, well we're looking at a gun battle between at least 6 individuals, based on the number of different types of weapons involved, and it looks like Agent Gomez and ASAC Schrader were over there, and they were alone on their side, based on the small number of bullets we've been finding on this side compared to that side. On this side, facing down the hill, anywhere between four and eight weapons. The ground is riddled with bullets and casings, even though the offenders did make an attempt to clean them up. There are piles of them in the grave, looks like they've just swept them in there, but plenty were still left out here. A concentration of shells on this side, and a concentration of bullets on that side. They're concentrated just over there, which is where we believe Schrader and Gomez were."

Ramey sighed. "Any blood?"

"Very difficult to find liquid in the desert this late in the piece. But after we've finished getting up all the bullets and shells and any other solids, we'll do some chemical testing on the sand, and we're all going to stay back late tonight with some UV lights, see what we can get from that."

"Thank you. You're doing a great job."

Hoffman stepped towards the tent.

...

Flynn sat down in the Albuquerque Public School District's excuse for an armchair, his legs lankier than ever in it, his crutches sitting beside them. He frowned and looked down at his hands.

"How's your week been, Flynn?" asked Mrs Griego.

Flynn sighed. "Well, lots of things happened, I-I guess. N-none of them...good."

"What kind of things?"

"Well, we had my dad's f-funeral on Sunday. Which you...probably don't know about because that was, like, th-the only thing ever about...our lives that was n-not in the news. There's something else th-that's going to be in the news, pr-probably...tonight I think, u-unless the DEA sits on it for longer. And that is that th-they're… they're…" Flynn paused, and not because of his stutter. He fiddled with his hands, and took a deep breath. "They're going to find my Uncle Hank's b-body today."

"Wow, those are really big things, Flynn. How do they make you feel?"

"G-guilty. And sad. A-and sometimes angry, but actually I...haven't been...angry very much for the last few days a-and I don't like that."

"Why guilty?"

"Because I'm sad about m-my dad. Which is h-horrible. He doesn't deserve for a-anyone to be...sad about him. And I sh-shouldn't be and I d-don't want to be and..I didn't think I...was, and then my mom convinced me to...go to the funeral because she was a-all like 'You need to face your emotions' and shit e-even though she never faces hers, a-and she told me I could...just go there and yell at the c-coffin, and I did and th-that was good, but th-then I got sad for some reason."

"Well, your father has just died. It's very understandable that you would be sad."

"But I...hated him! H-he was a horrible...horrible person who did...awful things to my mom and k-killed Uncle Hank, and...that's why I feel really guilty be-because now...they're going to find U-Uncle Hank's body and I'm… I'm going to be really sad about...Uncle Hank again, but I'm n-not right now, I'm sad about...Dad, and I sh-shouldn't be sad about Dad b-because Dad killed Uncle Hank! Mom says he didn't but sh-she's probably wrong about it and...anyway e-even if he didn't, it's definitely his...fault. He w-was definitely...involved in it and it was all his fault, plus he b-betrayed our entire family and e-everything we ever had with each other."

"Why can't you be sad about both your dad and Uncle Hank?"

"Because Uncle Hank was a-a good guy and D-dad was an asshole!"

"But he was still your dad. Emotions don't follow logic like that. Emotions can be very complicated. And as far as grief goes, often it's the most simple grief for the most ordinary loving people that is the easiest to deal with. As soon as it's someone with whom we had a complicated relationship, everything gets much harder, because suddenly they're gone and your brain and your heart aren't sure what emotions to feel. You're still angry with them, and you feel betrayed or hurt or lots of other different things, but they're gone and you're never going to see them again so you're also grieving. Lots of different emotions are zipping around inside you and wanting to get out, not just sadness."

Flynn frowned.

"Is that what it feels like? Or is it something different?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"It's perfectly normal. It can feel quite overwhelming, but I promise you, everything you are feeling is perfectly normal given what you are going through."

"I don't w-want to feel sad about Dad. He was an asshole."

"Why do you feel sad? When you think about him, what sorts of things bring out the sad emotion?"

"Y-you mean rather than the...angry emotion?"

"Well the thing about anger is that it's a secondary emotion. We don't feel anger on its own. We get angry because we feel something else. We can get angry because we feel hurt, or because we feel betrayed, or offended, or we can get angry on behalf of others when we see them being treated badly. But we can't be angry just on its own. It's always connected to another emotion."

"D-dad betrayed...all of us. But most of all U-Uncle Hank and...Mom. Mom's sad that he's dead, I-I heard...I heard her cr-crying in her bedroom last night. She loved him with...all her heart, a-and he betrayed her."

"You feel angry about the way he treated your mom?"

"V-very. And she...never gets angry herself, sh-she's always so...resigned about everything."

"What about you? Do you think your father betrayed you too?"

"Yeah."

"Do you feel sad about that?"

"Not really, I-I just feel bad about how good everything...used to be, how everyone in our family...used to be happy, and D-dad used to be nice to us, l-like he would watch action movies with me or h-help me with...my homework, or we'd go out to dinner or just s-something nice, something fun. And he...destroyed all of that. Now...my life sucks."

"Do you miss doing fun things with him?"

Flynn's eyes filled with tears. "Yeah." Then he frowned. "But do you know w-who else I miss doing...fun things with? Uncle Hank! I shouldn't be...feeling sad about D-Dad right now, I-I should be feeling sad about Uncle Hank, t-today they are...p-pulling up his body from where it was buried in the desert after h-he was murdered."

"That's really awful, Flynn. I'm so sorry to hear about that."

"I-it is, right? S-so why am I not...thinking of it?"

"The other complicated thing about emotions is that they come along in their own sweet time. You might not even know you're feeling something until one day something triggers it and it slaps you in the face. And funnily enough it's the things that have the biggest impact on us that we often feel the least, because our brains try to protect us from those emotions and they shut them away on us. The things that are the worst and hardest to deal with, sometimes our brain just refuses to deal with them and it shuts them out. But that only works for so long. You've never talked to me about feeling sad about your dad before. I think that was shut away, but recently it came out, maybe because of the funeral, do you think?

"I-it did come out at the funeral, I w-wish I hadn't...gone to the funeral because I never felt s-sad about him...before then."

"If it hadn't been the funeral that brought it out, it would have been something else. Unfortunately, we can't get away from these emotions. They might be hidden, but they are still there. And it's very healthy to let them out and feel them and think about them, talk about them as much as you can until you can come to terms with them. Letting them out decreases their power over you. Holding them in increases it."

"I w-want to feel sad about...Uncle Hank!"

"You will."

...

Flynn sat hunched over on the school bus, his arms on his knees, his face in a deep set frown.

He was texting his aunt. _How are you doing? Did they tell you anything yet?_

Marie was lying on her side on her bed, bawling her eyes out. She heard her message tone go and blinked through the tears to read it.

 _They found him,_ she texted back

Flynn's mouth fell open as he read the words over and over. _Are you ok?_

 _Not at all. Thanks for asking, honey._

"Hey, driver?" Flynn sat up. "C-can you let me off near...downtown, please?"

Flynn took a public bus from downtown to Marie's house. Well, as close to Marie's house as he could get. He had to climb the hill from the main road, because there wasn't a bus that went up it. He hadn't had any physical therapy sessions for a while, and his legs were killing him when he got to the top, but he had more important things on his mind.

When the doorbell rang, Marie almost didn't answer. She didn't want to deal with the DEA again - they would just tell her more horrible things. She didn't want to deal with anyone she didn't know. And she didn't want to deal with Skyler. She didn't want to answer, and she was just thinking about whether she should when she heard his voice.

"Aunt Marie! I'm coming in, I'm sorry, I n-need to sit down!"

Flynn turned his key in the lock, and was almost knocked over as Marie tore along the corridor and fell into his arms.

Flynn leaned heavily into the wall. "Hey, Aunt Marie. A-are you alright?"

"Flynn," she sobbed. "My knight in shining armour. Thank you."

...

Skyler was at work, and really struggling to concentrate. She had almost sent two taxis to the wrong destination. Fortunately it was company policy to always read the address back to the customer on the phone. If she hadn't done that, no-one would have stopped her.

She was given a meal break at 6, and she grabbed her cigarettes, phone and the sandwich she had packed, and walked through the break room to the laneway outside. Two of her taxi driver colleagues were sitting in the break room watching TV. Skyler knew what was likely to be on the news tonight and so she was powering across the break room as fast as she could, but she didn't quite make it. Just as she reached the door, the headlines rolled, and she froze.

"The bodies of two missing DEA agents found in the desert: ASAC Hank Schrader shot in the head in execution-style killing. New Mexico governor promises tougher sentences for drug criminals. And the parents of murdered Whitehorse teenager Drew Sharp speak out."

Skyler didn't hear any of the other headlines, the ringing in her ears blocking everything out. Her body went rigid as adrenaline shot through it, and her knuckles went white as she gripped the doorway.

"The Drug Enforcement Administration and Navajo Tribal Police have today found the site of what they describe as an intense gun battle, in which at least 4 and up to 8 criminals fired on just two federal agents. Agent Steve Gomez and ASAC Hank Schrader have been missing since the day that it happened, almost 4 months ago, the day unassuming school teacher Walter White was discovered to be one of the most dangerous criminals of the 21st century. The last thing Agent Gomez and ASAC Schrader did was arrest him."

The door banged as Skyler ran into the laneway and vomited into a garbage bin.


	13. Chapter 13

"D-do you want to watch the news, Aunt Marie?" asked Flynn.

Marie shook her head vigorously. "No. Ramey told me everything he could. I don't want to know more. He'll tell me more later when they know more, they're doing all the-the ballistics and all the the…"

Flynn put his hand on hers. "That's ok. We don't have to watch it. A-actually the news can be...really scary."

Marie nodded again.

"I'll make us something to eat, then." Flynn stood up and went into the kitchen.

"They shot him in the head," said Marie quietly.

Flynn turned back. "What?"

"What does that mean? I don't know! They said that there was a gun battle and that probably killed Steve, but that Hank was shot at close range in the head."

Flynn swallowed.

"I don't know what that means! Except that somehow it's even worse then everything I ever imagined about it! Everything I ever thought, everything I ever wondered might have happened, was not as bad as this."

...

Skyler sat on the ground in the back corner of the laneway, hugging her knees to her chest. She sucked deeply on a cigarette and eventually, her breathing began to slow, but her heart rate didn't. She looked at her watch. 3 minutes left of her break. She scrunched her eyes shut.

Putting her cigarettes back in her pocket and gripping her phone and unopened sandwich, she stood up. She looked at the phone for the first time and saw that there was a message from Flynn. _I'm at Aunt Marie's. We went and got Holly._

Not even having the thought capacity to reply, Skyler went back along the laneway to the break room door, and found one of the taxi drivers standing just inside it. "You ok?" he asked.

...

ASAC Ramey walked through the dark DEA office and knocked on the door of the one office that still had a light inside. ASAC Hoffman's, formally Hank's. He pushed the door open. When ASAC Hoffman looked up, he handed him a piece of paper. "This just came down from on high," he said.

"Funeral with full honours, flags, regalia - yeah, of course. I'd be upset if they didn't do that."

"Absolutely. Except…"

"Oh, wait a second." Hoffman was still reading. "Joint funeral?"

"There's the problem."

"Have you talked to them about this?"

"Yeah, I'm the one who asked for it."

"You can't put Blanca Gomez and Skyler White in the same funeral!"

"Yeah. I did specifically mention that in my report. But by the time I saw this, they'd all gone home, so I have to raise it with them tomorrow."

"There is no way that can happen."

"The email said that they had noted my request for separate funerals but the budget wouldn't stretch to it."

"Take it from my budget, then!"

"I think they'd rather you spent that fighting drug crime."

"Sure, use the money we've saved on not having to prosecute eight white power assholes and Walter White! And Lydia Rodarte-Quayle!"

...

Skyler lay in bed all day. Sometimes she could read, sometimes she couldn't. Every time there was a noise outside, she jumped. When she went downstairs to the bathroom, her next door neighbour banged his back door and Skyler jumped so strongly she crashed into the wall. She shrank to the floor and sat there with her arms over her head for some time.

Her next adrenaline spike came when she heard keys in the lock. "Mom, are you here?" came Flynn's voice.

Slamming the bathroom door shut, Skyler quickly pressed the flush button on the toilet. She put the lid down and sat on it, her face in her hands, trying to focus on her breathing. In and out. In and out.

"Is she in the bathroom?" said Marie to Flynn.

"Yeah, must be," he replied. He put down some DVDs on the coffee table. In the age of Netflix, the family could not afford an internet connection, so they still had to hire DVDs. Then he carried a bag of groceries to the kitchen and put some milk in the fridge.

Marie carried a second bag of groceries and Holly. "Mama?" said Holly.

"Yeah, Mama's just in the bathroom, sweetheart, she'll be out soon."

Hearing this, Skyler looked up. She turned on the cold tap and plunged her face under it just for a second. Then she stepped out.

"Mama!" cried Holly happily, holding her hands out.

Skyler stepped forward and took her in her arms. "Hi, darling," she said, kissing her on the head and putting a hand on Marie's shoulder. "You ok?" she asked.

Marie looked at her, then shook her head. Skyler pulled her into a hug.

Flynn was putting groceries into the cupboard. He turned around. "The DEA said Uncle Hank was sh-shot in the head, Mom," he said. "Close range, l-like...like...execution style."

"Yeah, I heard," said Skyler. She gripped Marie harder.

"That sounds pretty...s-scary. I-I would be really scared, b-but I bet...Uncle Hank wasn't b-because he was a...brave man."

Marie whimpered, and Flynn looked at his mother with wide wet eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

"Scott!" called Janice, standing up from her desk. "Marie Schrader on line 1!"

ASAC Hoffman's face fell and he shook his head. "Oh, no. No, please. Not yet."

"It's been four days already. She wants to know about the funeral."

"Yeah, but I don't have anything good to tell her about the funeral!"

"Well then she needs to organise her own. She is Hank's widow."

Scott nodded, and looked up at Ramey. "Have they got back to you yet?"

"It's not sounding good. I don't have a firm answer yet, though."

"Oh man, this is hard enough as it is, why are they making it harder? How can a DEA funeral make things harder?"

"I'll take it," said Ramey to Janice. "Line 1?"

She nodded, and Ramey picked up the phone on the temporary desk he had been given inside the ASAC's office. "Marie, it's ASAC Ramey. How are you?"

"Hi, I didn't know you were still there!"

"Something this important? Oh yeah, I'm still here."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Ballistics is starting to paint us a much clearer picture of what happened. I won't tell you anything yet because there are still a few things we're not sure of, but can I make an appointment to come and see you, maybe on Friday?"

"Ok, sure." Marie's heart jumped into her throat. "Can I have my family there?"

"Of course. Of course."

"OK, well I'll check my s...I'll check my sister's work schedule and I'll let you know."

"Ah yep, OK, no problem."

"Maybe in the late afternoon, after my nephew finishes school."

"That'll be fine."

"Ok, the other thing is the funeral. I have a few people asking me. Especially my mother-in-law. Can you give me an idea of when you might be ready to...ah...release Hank's body?"

"Pretty soon I think, but the other thing I'd like to talk to you about on Friday is that the DEA is proposing a full funeral, regalia, full honours, police pipe band, that sort of thing. Like a military funeral but the DEA equivalent, if you know what I mean. It would be completely up to you whether you accept that, of course. The DEA will be happy to contribute to costs for whatever funeral you decide to hold, if you would rather do something privately that's perfectly fine."

"What do you mean full honours, do you mean like flag on the coffin kind of honours?"

"Yeah, definitely stars and stripes on the coffin and all that kind of thing, yeah."

"Wow. That would be such an honour. Hank would love that."

"Would he really?" Ramey laughed nervously. He had been really hoping she wouldn't want to do it.

"OK, well I'll talk to you more about it on Friday. We're not quite sure how things would need to be organised yet."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Of course. Hank was an exceptional agent and a fine man. We're gonna make sure we send him out right."

Ramey hung up the phone and scrunched up his eyes.

"Why did you say that?" said Scott. "Isn't that going to make it worse?"

"I know, I know. I'm talking from the heart, alright? Hank and Steve were good people, we shouldn't be playing their wives off like this."

"We aren't yet."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Let's do Blanca first."

...

Skyler picked Flynn up from school on Friday afternoon and drove to Marie's house. ASACs Hoffman and Ramey were already there. Flynn eagerly shook both of their hands. Skyler entered the house slightly later, pushing Holly in her pushchair. Thankfully, she had fallen asleep. "Can I put her down in the bedroom?" Skyler asked Marie.

"Ooh, can I? I could just eat her up, she's so gorgeous when she's asleep."

This departure left Skyler and Flynn with the two DEA agents. Flynn didn't seem to notice the awkwardness between the three other people in the room. "S-so have your guys been working...all day and all night to...find stuff out?" he asked.

"The CSI guys have," said Hoffman. "With stuff out in the open, you have to work pretty fast."

"The rest of us have been pulling some pretty long days as well," said Ramey.

"S-so even though it had been 4 months, the...CSI guys could s-still find stuff?"

"Yeah. No footprints, but they found lots of bullets and casings, lots of bits of car body and lights that had been damaged by the gunfight, and a little bit of blood. Just traces."

Flynn had been getting excited, but at the mention of blood his face fell. "Wow," he said.

Marie reappeared. "Can I get anybody a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"Yes please!" said Flynn.

Skyler moved quickly into the kitchen to help her. Marie had made the coffee in advance, and the room smelled rich with it.

"With a smell like that coming from your kitchen, Marie, I can't say no," said Ramey.

"How do you have it?"

"Black with one, please."

"White with two," said Hoffman.

Skyler poured the drinks while Marie grabbed the milk and sugar. Both women's hearts were pounding out of their chests, but you couldn't tell it to look at them as they calmly conducted this most basic of domestic tasks. Skyler stirred the coffees and Marie took them to the agents. Skyler poured another one for Flynn and a glass of water for herself.

Everyone sat down on the sofas in the living room. Marie and Flynn looked expectantly at the two agents. Skyler looked at her glass.

"Have you all cleared the rest of your afternoon?" asked Ramey.

"Y-yeah," said Flynn. Marie nodded.

"What we're going to do is to tell you whatever we're able about what really happened to Hank and Steve, and that will be distressing for you to hear, which is why we asked for you to be in your home, Marie, and to have people you trust to support you. You've asked for one of those people to be your sister, which is fair enough, but it is highly irregular in this situation given that she is facing criminal charges that are related to what we're about to discuss. What we're going to tell you will be on the public record – it isn't yet, but there will be a press conference next week where we will release information, which won't be as detailed as the information we're going to give you, but nevertheless, this information will be publicly available one way or another. Therefore we've seen no reason to deny your presence here today, Mrs White, but I must remind you that you are still under caution and that anything you say may be used in evidence against you."

Skyler nodded.

"Sh-she's here because she's our family," said Flynn. "W-we all lost…Uncle Hank and we wanna know what…happened to him. It would really…help."

"Of course."

Ramey and Hoffman looked at each other. Ramey began to speak. "Flynn, you asked if we had been working around the clock. I guess you can say that we have. We've had a large team, in fact several different teams - CSI, ballistics, pathology, criminal psychologists, and the agents themselves, the detectives - working pretty damn hard since last Thursday to make sense of the crime scene at To'Hajiilee. We've also had, and still have, officers working on the scene at Garden Park. And I'm quite pleased with what we've achieved. We've taken two quite large crime scenes where some truly awful things happened that at first nobody understood at all, and we have steadfastly worked through everything until now we can say that, overall, we do understand what happened there. Not everything, but most things. And the most information we have got has come from being able to compare the two crime scenes."

"In particular the ballistics," said Hoffman.

"Yeah. The ballistics told us quite a lot. Mrs White, I just need to ask you one more time, and this is on the record, do you know anything about what happened at either of these crime scenes?"

Skyler looked up, and hesitated. "Nothing more than I already told you."

"Which was that on the day the To'Hajiilee gunfight happened, although you didn't know then that it was a gunfight, you asked your husband if he had killed Hank Schrader and he said no, and that on the day Garden Park happened, he told you that the men who had stolen his money had killed Hank and Steve Gomez, and that you had the impression he was going to meet them that night."

"Yes."

"We have used that information as well, but it's only circumstantial. It's the physical evidence that has informed us of what we're about to tell you."

"Cool," said Flynn

Marie nodded and looked intently at the two agents.

"We found an awful lot of bullets and shell casings in the desert at To'Hajiilee. They came from eight weapons of several different kinds; handguns, automatic, semi-automatic. Steve had a rifle, and Hank had a handgun. Those were buried in the grave with them at To'Hajiilee.

"There were also as I mentioned various broken bits of car - little pieces, shrapnel that had come off it when bullets had hit it. We tested it and all of it is from Hank's car. It looks like one or both of them took shelter behind it. We also found, soon after he disappeared, Walt's black Chrysler, and that had a few bullet holes in it as well and we did recover one bullet from it, which had been lodged in the body of the car. Ballistics have identified the gun that came from as an AA-12 fully automatic that was owned by the white power gang, it was recovered from their Garden Park headquarters and it had the fingerprints of at least five of them on it, so it could have been one of a number of them who was firing it on that day at To'Hajiilee."

"The fingerprints hadn't been wiped," added Hoffman. "They were all still there."

"Yes, fingerprint report on all of the weapons showed that they had never been wiped."

"That's how arrogant these guys were."

"So now we move on to the pathology reports, by which I mean the autopsy reports of both Hank and Steve. It looks like Steve was killed by that AA-12."

Marie and Skyler gasped.

"Whoah," whispered Flynn.

"As I said, it had five sets of fingerprints on it so there is no way of telling exactly who fired it on that day, although by a process of elimination we can rule out two of the guys who had their own handguns. We can confirm that they were the personal weapons of those two individuals because they were covered in their fingerprints and DNA, and the guns were found on or near their bodies at Garden Park. So since bullets from those two handguns were also found at To'Hajiilee, it's likely that those two guys were firing their handguns that day, although that doesn't mean that they weren't firing another weapon also.

"Hank was shot twice by two different guns. He had a wound in his leg which occurred when he was still alive, and that bullet lodged in his leg so we can confidently identify it and the gun it came from, which was another automatic weapon we recovered from Garden Park which had multiple sets of fingerprints on it, so no way of knowing who fired it.

"Was it one of the…dead…Garden Park guys?" asked Marie.

"Yes. All of the fingerprints on all the weapons at Garden Park belonged to bodies we found at Garden Park. CSI have removed and tested all of the bullets and casings from To'Hajiilee, and all of the weapons that were used at To'Hajiilee were found at Garden Park, apart from Hank and Steve's. These two crime scenes are _very_ closely linked.

"The bullet in Hank's leg didn't kill him. As I told you before, he was killed by a single shot to the head. Because that shot was fired at close range, the bullet didn't lodge inside his body, so while the CSI officers have found a bullet that they are 95% sure was the one that got him, they can't be 100% sure. The human body is pretty soft so it doesn't do any damage to a bullet, so a bullet that's gone through a person looks exactly the same as a bullet that was fired into the air. From Hank's injury we can tell what kind of gun it came from. And that was a handgun.

"The bullet CSI found that they are 95% sure is the one that killed Hank is different from all the others because it was found buried slightly underground, and at an angle indicating it had been shot downward rather than out. All of the other bullets found at the scene were fired straight across, but this one was fired straight down. Unfortunately there was no trace of blood or DNA on the bullet, but CSI found traces of Hank's blood in the sand around it. So that's why they're 95% sure that was the one. But because of the time that's passed and the deterioration of the crime scene, and the fact that his body was not found where it fell, it was buried in a grave a few feet away, we can never be 100% sure of that."

"95% is…p-pretty good." said Flynn.

"Yeah, it is. Like I said, we do have a pretty solid understanding of what happened now. So at Garden Park 3 weeks ago when we were clearing up all the mess there and studying all the bodies to figure out what killed them, we found one man who was killed with his own handgun. Jack Welker, the gang leader. The gun was found a few feet from his body, but the prevalence of his own fingerprints and DNA on it indicate that it was his personal weapon.

"There were two other sets of fingerprints on that gun, and they were very fresh, they were put there that night at Garden Park. One was Jesse Pinkman's and one was Walter White's."

Marie gasped.

"The clearest fingerprint we have on that trigger is Walt's. Only one shot was fired from that gun on that night, but there were two fingerprints on the trigger. Pinkman's was a much lighter print, but Walt's was firmly pressed into the centre of the trigger, which makes our fingerprints analyst about 85% sure that the person who fired the shot that killed Jack Welker was Walter White.

"Welker was shot in the head when he was on the ground and the shooter was standing above him. Just under 4 months earlier, our ballistics officers are 95% sure that Hank was killed in exactly the same manner by the same gun."

"By Walt?" Marie wailed.

Ramey shook his head. "Criminal psychologist says no. So do my agents, because my agents think why on earth, four months before they both died, and immediately before Welker and his buddies allegedly stole Walt's cash, would Walt be holding Welker's gun? The only prints of Walt's that we found on that gun were the very recent prints from the night he killed Welker with it. That doesn't mean he hadn't handled the gun earlier and the prints were rubbed away over time, but it is very unlikely from a logical standpoint that he would have been holding Welker's gun at To'Hajiilee, because it was Welker's gun and Welker was alive and well at that point so why would he not be holding his own gun? From a psychological standpoint, our criminal psychologists have analysed both of these crime scenes very thoroughly and compared them with what the three of you have told us about Walt, his actions, his behaviour, his manner of thinking, and with what he did in between these two gun battles. And the theory that they have presented us with is that Welker shot Hank in To'Hajiilee and killed him, and at Garden Park four months later, Walt shot Welker in the same manner as payback."

Marie felt an enormous weight lift off her shoulders, and she flopped forward in the absence of its strength. "Oh, thank God," she said. She looked up at Flynn.

"Yeah," he said.

Skyler was watching Ramey intently, her eyes wide, her jaw hard set.

"One argument that has been presented to me regarding this," continued Ramey, "is that it looks likely that Walt killed all of the eight gang members at Garden Park for the same reason; yes he said they also stole his money but gunning eight people down with an automated machine gun and then making no attempt to take the cash back is not a normal course of action even a criminal would take in payback for theft. But it is the sort of action a criminal would take in payback for murder. As far as Welker goes, he was injured by Walt's machine gun at Garden Park, quite badly, but he wasn't killed instantly. He was injured badly enough, though, that he would have bled out quite quickly, and this should have been obvious to Walt because he had blood coming out of his mouth. Why, then, did Walt deem it necessary to pick up the man's own gun and shoot him in the head with it?"

Marie shook her head and smiled. "Thank god! This seems like a really weird thing to be smiling about, it's awful, it's completely macabre that I am relieved about this, but if my brother-in-law did not kill my husband; more than that if he actually went out to seek revenge for his death, everything is just…better. I mean, it's still so horrible, all of it, it's gruesome, but ...if the betrayal isn't…if it…"

"Walt killed many people and caused a lot of destruction, but you're right, if he didn't kill Hank then that is certainly better for you. Which is why we thought you should know."

"Hank and Steve's deaths were still Walter's fault, though," said Hoffman. "They were only there to arrest him. He weaselled out of that because the gang members who had previously worked with Walter suddenly showed up in To'Hajiilee that day, and we can only assume that they were there because he called them."

"To kill Jesse Pinkman?" asked Skyler.

Ramey and Hoffman looked at her.

"Agent Martinez said," she said.

"That's just a theory," said Hoffman. "The criminal psychologists say that what happened at To'Hajiilee was sudden, random, unplanned. Which makes sense given that Walt could never have known that Hank and Steve were waiting to arrest him there, otherwise surely he wouldn't have gone. Hank had made him think that only Pinkman was there and that Pinkman had found Walt's money. There is a theory that Walt had therefore called the gang members in order to kill Pinkman, but we can't know that for sure."

"Unless you find Pinkman," said Marie.

"Absolutely, yes, and we will. Anyway, Walt certainly wasn't expecting the DEA to be there, I doubt the gang members were either; they probably just showed up, saw him in handcuffs, and decided to shoot the two agents to rescue him, thinking they were doing him a solid. Maybe they stole his money because he didn't react well to that. They left him unscathed, though. Their beef wasn't with him. But he certainly had a beef with them when he went to Garden Park."

"So you're…you're not sure?" asked Skyler.

"We still have a lot of questions. Some will never be able to be answered because Walt has gone out of his way to make sure almost everybody involved in this is now dead. But we know a lot more than we did."

"W-wow, it's amazing that y-you can find so much out," said Flynn

"Thank you," said Hoffman. "It's been a long haul."

"And it's still going," said Ramey. "We won't stop until we've dotted all the i's and crossed all the t's."

"So the..." Marie swallowed. "The gun battle. How...what would it have been like?"

Ramey looked her in the eye. "Quick."

"But scary."

"Yes, but when something happens that fast, you don't have time to feel afraid. You just react and deal with it. The whole thing would have been over inside five minutes."

"But Hank…didn't die in the gun battle and he was shot in the leg, s-so…and Steve – if Steve was killed in the gun battle then Hank watched him die."

Skyler put a hand on Marie's arm, and Ramey shook his head. "It was still very quick. Adrenaline would have been pumping so fast through his body, he wouldn't have had time to think or worry or process any of it. He was shot in the leg, probably didn't even feel much pain from it because you don't when adrenaline's taken over, and he was probably just trying to think of what he was going to do next when someone walked up to him and shot him in the head. He didn't suffer, it was over quickly." Ramey discreetly left out the fact that CSI had found traces of Hanks blood going over a three or four metre distance, indicating he had been forced to crawl after being injured in the leg.

Marie nodded and swallowed several times. Skyler took her hand and Flynn put his arm around her. "D-Dad didn't do it," he said, and tears sprung to his eyes. "Didn't ... didn't he say that, Mom?" He looked back at Ramey. "Y-you said earlier that th-that day when Mom asked him if he had killed Uncle Hank, he said n-no. But he also said…something else. I don't think I remembered it un..til now. He said, 'I tried to save him.' A-and he said it…ki-kinda desperately, kind of…l-like it was out of his control."

Skyler was watching her son, her brain going at 100 miles an hour as she saw through her peripheral vision ASAC Hoffman take out a notepad. She knew it had to be now.

"Oh yeah," she said as nonchalantly as she could. Marie turned to her, and then back to Flynn, her eyes questioning.

"Did you report that before?" asked Hoffman, his pen hovering over his notepad. "Was that in your original interviews?"

Skyler turned to look at him. "I don't recall," she said. "I think I…just said that I had asked Walt if he had killed Hank and he denied it."

"Yeah, yeah," said Flynn. "No I don't think I did say...th-that in my interview because…I was so confused a-about everything, I don't think my brain even…processed that until just now. Th-that whole day, when I think of it is…j-just feelings and actions f-flying around, it's…such a mess. I didn't…really think about the exact words Dad said un…til now. But I'm sure that was it. He said, 'I tried to save him.'" A tear fell down Flynn's cheek. "Oh m-my god, did I have him all wrong?"

Ramey and Hoffman shook their heads. "No," said Hoffman. "Your father was a very dangerous man who killed a lot of people. And while we think we have discovered that Hank was killed by Jack Welker, we don't know that Walt didn't tell him to do it."

"No, h-he said he tried to save him. Didn't he, M-Mom?"

Skyler looked down. "I'm not sure. Like you, I don't remember the exact words, it was all crazy emotions and…." She turned back to Ramey and Hoffman. "I don't recall his exact words."

...

Walt had tried to save him, thought Skyler as she lay in bed that night. She had always known he was telling the truth about that, but to know how it happened, and how he had sought revenge, made her feel so much better. She was still the lowest of the low, she felt, to actually be happy that he had killed them all like that, but she also knew that if he had turned himself in and informed on them, he probably would have been killed in prison, and she still would have lost him but those horrible eight men would still be out there. Walt tried to save him. Thank god. Skyler smiled and drifted off to sleep.

In the next room, Flynn was crying his eyes out as quietly as he could manage. They were staying over at Marie's that night, which Flynn thought was a blessing since the walls there were much thicker than the walls at home. He'd had it wrong. His father hadn't killed Uncle Hank. He'd tried to save him. The knowledge of what really happened gave Flynn a sense of relief, but also an enormous sense of guilt. In a period of only two hours, he had gone from hero-worshipping his father to calling 911 on him, convinced he had killed his uncle. Thinking back on it now it was just so awful; yes his father had done horrible things, but he shouldn't have turned on him so completely and so quickly - not without giving him a chance to speak for himself. Which he had. He had said, "I tried to save him!" And Flynn had forgotten.

He cried himself to sleep.

Across the hall, Marie tossed and turned in bed. She hadn't been able to access her emotions for the rest of the day. They were maxed out. Overloaded. She did have an adrenaline feeling, and she didn't think it was from the coffee. Her brain was running at a rate of knots, replaying everything the DEA agents had said in her mind. Telling herself over and over again what had really happened. It was such a relief to know. Especially about Walt. But she wouldn't sleep tonight.


	15. Chapter 15

The funeral drama played out the following week. Hoffman individually met with Blanca Gomez and Marie and told them that the DEA brass wanted to fund an elaborate funeral with full honours for both of their husbands together. Both of them thought that was a really nice idea. Marie didn't pick up on any potential problems at first, but Blanca did. "I'm not having that betraying whore at my husband's funeral," she said.

"Well the thing is, if we do this joint funeral, the families of both Hank and Steve will be there, and Skyler is in the family of Hank."

"Yeah, and she turned on them with her disgusting husband. Surely she can't expect this to be ok. Attending a DEA funeral when she's waiting to be tried on drug charges?"

...

Hoffman told himself that Marie would understand this reasoning too. He certainly did. But it turned out she didn't at all. She said that if it was a joint funeral, each of the wives and families had joint say over it. Her say was that she wanted her sister there, and if she wasn't she'd go and organise a private funeral.

"Of course, you're very welcome to do that, Marie," said Hoffman.

"What?" ejected Marie. "You can't offer a full DEA funeral for my husband and then take it away, he died because of the DEA, doing his job, his job that he was very good at, and he was the only person to solve this Heisenberg case at all - he deserves full honours and full respect from everyone, and you are not going to deny him that!"

"No, of course we're not denying him that. If you did have a private funeral, I hope you would still invite us. And we would of course be very respectful. We're in awe of what Hank did."

"But no honours, no flag, no DEA brass. That's only possible if it's a joint funeral with Steve, right?"

"I asked if that could be arranged for separate funerals and it's just not possible."

"No that's fine, I think it should be a joint funeral - Hank and Steve were good friends and they worked together and they died together, I think it's very appropriate."

"OK Marie, so just clarifying, you do want to be part of a joint funeral."

"Yes. And who I invite to it is up to me. So if you would like to tell Blanca Gomez that, I would be most grateful."

...

When Marie told Skyler, she backed right out. She said she completely understood why no-one, not just Blanca Gomez, would want to see her at the funeral and that she was totally fine with not going.

Maria took that very personally and didn't speak to her for 3 days. Skyler was very busy for those 3 days because someone in her office was sick, so she picked up some extra shifts at work. She didn't actually realise Marie was upset with her until Flynn mentioned it.

"Don't you w-wanna go?" he asked her over dinner.

"Of course I do. But if they don't want me there that's perfectly reasonable."

"A-Aunt Marie thinks you don't want to and she's…offended by that o-on behalf of Uncle Hank."

Skyler looked at him, then down at her food. "I don't see what I can do about it. I have to do what the DEA says."

"It's not the DEA saying it, it's Mrs Gomez. I think y-you should just…meet with her."

Skyler made a surprised noise and shook her head.

"Remember when Aunt Marie was really angry at you a-after Uncle Hank died, and…y-you said that was fine and…perfectly understandable and that she should yell at you a-a lot, and she did, she was…m-mad at you for like an entire month, or more, and…you were ok with that."

"Yeah, and I don't know why she isn't still doing that."

"Why, d-do you want her to be mad at you?"

"No. But I would completely understand it if she was."

"Sh-she's mad at you because she wants you to go to the…funeral! It's _Uncle Hank's_ funeral, a-and Aunt Marie actually, actually I-I mean, the two of you have been taking care…of each other really well, l-like even when…she was mad at you she was…still looking out for you, you both r-rely on each other a lot and-and I really think she…needs you there."

Skyler looked at him, swallowing slowly.

...

Marie spent the entire weekend on the sofa. She just didn't seem to be able to move much or go anywhere. She got up to eat...sometimes. But every time one of the TV shows she was watching finished, she was overtaken by a sadness so intense she just wanted to immediately watch another one to take the pain away.

Skyler called by on Sunday evening after work. She had Holly with her. Flynn was at Louis's house.

Marie looked up in the direction of the door, frowning and thinking as fast as her foggy brain would allow. She decided that no matter what was on the other side of the door, it would be some kind of distraction, and that would be good. So she got up and padded very slowly towards the door.

"Oh hi," she said when she saw her it was.

"Hi. Sorry, were you in bed?"

"No. Just didn't have any reason to get dressed today." She turned and wandered back along the corridor, leaving the door open for Skyler to follow. She had not greeted Holly, which was very unusual.

Skyler turned the light on in the living room and looked around. There were dirty dishes on the coffee table, tissues spread around and a couple of cushions on the floor that had fallen off the sofa. Marie sat back down on the sofa and wrapped herself in the comforter that was sitting there.

Skyler put Holly down in front of the bucket of toys that was kept in the corner of the room. "Are you ok?" she asked.

"What do you think? Do I have any reason to be ok right now?"

Skyler shook her head. "No. I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry." Marie leant back on the sofa, curling her body up around her knees.

"Are you sick or is this...what the DEA told us?"

"Oh yeah, that and just all of it really, all of it, everything."

Skyler nodded.

"And the fact that my sister doesn't want to go to my husband's funeral."

"Of course I do." Skyler sat down. "But I don't think you should deny Hank this proper big-deal fully paid send off just so that you can have a funeral that I can attend. We could have a family memorial another time. At his grave, or... some place he liked to go." Tears came to Skyler's eyes. The truth was, she wasn't sure if she could handle Hank's funeral. If she wasn't being disallowed to go then of course she would, but she knew it would be one of the most challenging experiences of her entire life. If she had to face the Gomez family and all of the extended DEA family and friends staring at her the entire time, she wasn't sure she could manage it.

"That's not the point. The point is I want you there at the actual funeral because it's going to be the hardest thing I ever have to do in my entire life, and while Flynn is absolutely wonderful, I don't want to be collapsing into his arms all the time; he's only 17 and he acts tough but he shouldn't have to be, I mean physically he isn't and mentally he shouldn't have to be."

"You'll have friends there too, right?"

"Yeah. Couple of them. They can be really supportive, but they don't get it. It's not them that's going through it. I can't say, 'Oh, remember when Hank did this or said that', or say how I really feel and... have them understand what that means."

A tear fell down Marie's cheek, and Skyler moved closer to her. She fell short of touching her, thinking it was better to let Marie initiate that. Marie frowned, leaned back and looked straight ahead. "I can't even cry about it," she said. "I keep trying to and nothing comes out."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

Marie's stomach rumbled.

"Have you eaten today?" asked Skyler.

"Some chocolate. And a banana."

"I'll make us something." Skyler stood up and went into the kitchen.

Marie lay down on the sofa again. She watched Holly playing with some blocks. She got three to stand on top of each other, but with the fourth the pile fell down. She made a noise of frustration, and then begin to build them again. The same thing happened again, and the noise of frustration was louder at this time, but Holly kept going. The third time the blocks fell, she started to cry, so Marie got up and went over to her. She pulled her onto her lap and sniffed her hair. Holly leaned towards the blocks. Marie helped her straighten them and put two blocks next to each other to provide more strength, going in opposite directions on each level. Pretty soon, they had a tower of six blocks. Holly clapped, and Marie hugged her.

...

To Skyler, going into the DEA was quite a frightening thing. She'd had awful experiences there, being told horrific things, incessantly being asked the same questions over and over in more and more confronting ways, being terrified of what would happen to her. Being looked at like she was alternately the scum of the earth or a pathetic cop out, depending on which agents were interviewing her that day and what mood they were in.

There was the sense of being trapped, too, because she had never had any choice but to be there before. But this time, she did have a choice, and every sense in her body was screaming for her to make the opposite one. Her feet wouldn't walk properly when she got out of her car, and the tingling feeling spread through her like static electricity as soon as she touched the door of the DEA building. Every sense in her body was screaming for her to turn and run away. But she was doing this for Marie, so she had to keep on.

ASAC Hoffman appeared in the corridor very quickly after the man at the security desk rang him. "Mrs White," he said. "Do you have some information?"

"No, not about…no, I just wanted to talk to you...about the funeral."

"Oh. Ok." He looked around. "Let's step in here," he said, stepping into the nearest interview room. Skyler reluctantly followed. Hoffman sat on the desk and Skyler stood by the door, gripping her handbag tightly.

"I'm worried about Marie," she said. "It's really not fair on her, any of this." Suddenly everything else Skyler had been preparing to say flew out of her mind.

"No it's not," said Hoffman. "I didn't want it to be like this. It's not fair on Mrs Gomez either."

"No. So I just wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to help them arrive at a compromise or…"

Hoffman nodded. "Yeah, certainly looks like a compromise will be necessary. I'm not sure what, though."

"Well, like I could go to the funeral but not the wake."

Hoffman nodded.

"I'm really worried about Marie."

"I'll run that by Mrs Gomez."

"Sh-she wouldn't have to see me at all, I could come in at a side entrance and sit on the opposite side of the church to her."

"It's going to be a pretty big deal, a long day; there's the funeral and then we will sort of process over to the cemetery, and have a proper ceremony at the burial site with flags over the coffins and so on. You wanna be there for that bit too?"

"I wanna be there to provide support for Marie. If I was her, I think… I think I might make it through the church service and the burial might be the bit where I would lose it. I just wanna be there when… I wanna catch her when she falls."

"This part of your rehabilitation?"

Skyler swallowed. "No, it… it's just about looking after my family, but… actually, for me it will be absolute hell. Because I know it's my fault. And I will never forgive myself for that, and going to Hank and Steve's funeral is something I'm not sure that I can bear, and don't tell Marie I said this but I'm really really afraid that I might not be able to pull myself back up again after, but…. she wants me to go and I…owe her that, I need to help her in any way that I can. It's the least that I can do. And afterwards I will probably curl up on the floor for days and days and not be able to do anything. And I'll have a new nightmare, a new flashback that will play before my mind over and over, of all the people there grieving for them and Marie and Flynn and Steve's family… It will play on my mind for the rest of my life, so if you want to punish me, send me there."


	16. Chapter 16

The two Mrs Schraders pulled up in the blue mini and Marie popped the trunk. She got out and carried her mother-in-law's bag to the front door. Mrs Schrader Snr looked around at the house and the view, then slowly followed her daughter-in-law inside and to the biggest guest bedroom. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the new photo of Hank and Marie that was now hanging on the wall in the corridor. It was taken on their wedding day. Marie was glowing, looking absolutely stunning in a flowing white dress with a lilac in her hair. Hank had his arm around her and a wide open-mouthed grin, looking like the cat who'd got the cream.

Seeing her mother-in-law looking at it, Marie said, "That's the one I got done last month."

"It is absolutely wonderful. Do you talk to it?"

"What?"

"I talk to a photo of my husband that I have on my dresser. Not all the time, just sometimes. Sometimes it helps."

...

Skyler worked a double shift three times the week before the funeral. For two reasons; one, it was distracting, and two, she would have to take the entire day off for the funeral and knew she may well collapse into a mentally ill mess and be unable to work for a time afterwards. She wasn't sure how long. She hoped it wasn't long. She really didn't want to go, it terrified her. Witnessing the real human impact of the wrong she had done, multiplied by the number of mourners, which was likely to be a lot, and extended over hours. She was not expecting to come out of it well.

On her final double shift, she didn't even get a dinner break because they were short staffed, so she didn't get Flynn's text until she finished work at 11 p.m. _I'm going out to dinner with Aunt Marie and Uncle Hank's mom_ , it said. _We've got Holly._

Skyler sighed. One thing about her job was it had decimated the amount of time she got to spend with her family. There were a lot of evening and weekend shifts, something she had not had to do since well before Flynn was born. She was relieved that he was supporting Marie and that Holly was always cared for, but Skyler was completely missing out. For her, not being with her kids was completely soul-destroying. She knew she would have to get used to it for her time in prison, but she wasn't getting used to it and nothing was getting easier, in fact everything was getting steadily worse.

She unlocked her front door, not sure if she was coming home to an empty house or not, as Flynn's text hadn't specified whether he and Holly were staying overnight with Marie. The house was dark, so she thought they had done. Again. Skyler was really glad that her children were such a help to Marie, but it was just so hard for her to be alone.

She went to the bathroom and cleaned her teeth, then climbed the stairs slowly, her back arching and her hand gripping the stair rail a lot more tightly than was needed for balance. Turning on her bedroom light, she heard a noise and realised that Holly was asleep in her cot, stirring slightly. Opening the door opposite, she saw that Flynn was asleep in his bed. Skyler put her hand over her mouth as relief washed through her. Knowing they were there made everything so much better. She undressed and crawled exhausted into bed, where she had a dreamless sleep.

...

Flynn and Skyler arrived five minutes before the service was due to start, and were met at the side door by Marie. Skyler was wearing a shawl around her head in an effort to avoid attention. Marie lead them to the edge of the front row, where her mother-in-law was already sitting with her son James, who had arrived that morning. Skyler stepped back to let Flynn enter first, thinking the grieving mother, like Mrs Gomez, would probably not want to be too close to her. The feeling was mutual, as Skyler was hit by the first wave of guilt when the woman looked up at her and smiled awkwardly.

"Do you remember my sister Skyler?" said Maire

"I do."

"Mrs Schrader, I'm so sorry." said Skyler, her voice shaking.

"Thank you," said Mrs Schrader, as if Skyler had just said a normal sympathy sorry rather than and I'm-sorry-your-son-got-killed-because-of-me apology.

"I…I really..." Skyler swallowed, wanting to say more but not knowing what.

"You didn't bring the little one?" Mrs Schrader asked.

Surprised by the question, Skyler shook her head.

"No, we talked about that," said Marie. "The child psychologist really doesn't think it's a good idea. She's too small to understand the why and how of emotions, so it would just distress her. I mean, if we all break down and start sobbing hysterically, it would just scare her. She didn't go to her father's funeral either because Flynn was there yelling at the coffin, weren't you, Flynn?"

"Yeah," said Flynn.

"She would get confused and scared and upset."

"She's been damaged by that sort of thing in the past, s-so..." explained Flynn.

"Which is why she has a child psychologist," said Marie.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. The whole thing must have been so awful for your whole family. I'm so sorry."

Skyler looked at Mrs Schrader with wide eyes, unable to comprehend why she was now offering her, Skyler, a sympathy sorry.

"Th-thank you," said Flynn.

The organ at the back of the church started up, and everyone stood.


	17. Chapter 17

It was a very long service. Two eulogies, speeches from DEA representatives, and they had also encouraged the next generation to talk about what Hank and Steve meant to them, so Steve's 12-year-old son made a speech and so did Flynn. This was the worst kind of torture for Skyler, but fortunately it was towards the end of proceedings. Or unfortunately, if you consider the fact that that meant that her nicotine craving had already reached crisis point by the time the kids took the stand. She had thought of wearing a nicotine patch like she did sometimes at work, but her three double shifts had caused her to run out and she hadn't had time or money to get any more. Anyway, she thought, she would need to actually smoke cigarettes to get the stress relief from them, which was the whole reason she had started smoking in the first place, and she knew she would need that regardless of whether she had a patch or not, so it probably wouldn't have made any difference.

With a jolt, she realised her son was now coming back towards his seat and she had just spent his entire speech thinking about nicotine. This, if it was possible, made her feel even more guilty, but at the same time she knew she couldn't focus anymore and that her emotions had gone numb long ago.

Marie and Hank's mother had both been remarkably calm throughout, crying softly on a couple of occasions but not shaking or sobbing. Marie stood as Flynn came back to his seat and hugged him tightly. "Thank you honey, that was beautiful," she said.

Marie cried a little harder in the final hymn, and Skyler put her arm around her. She immediately regretted the timing of this, because the pallbearers had started to gather around the coffins, and she thought that Marie would probably want to follow Hank's coffin out of the church. If she kept crying like this, Skyler would have to go with her, and parade past the eyes, the stares and the hatred of everyone watching.

Steve's pallbearers carried his coffin out first. This was a blessing, and not at all an accidental one, because his wife and family followed. Then Hank's pallbearers picked up his coffin. They included two of Hank's oldest friends, his brother, ASAC Ramey and two other DEA agents.

"Can I acc-accompany you, Mrs Schrader?" asked Flynn, holding out his arm to her.

"Thank you," said Mrs Schrader, taking it gently. The two of them stepped forward and began to follow the coffin out.

Marie was shaking and swallowing hard, trying to compose herself. Her eyes were glued to the coffin, and as wide as saucers.

"Come on," said Skyler gently, rubbing the top of Marie's arm.

Marie stepped forward jerkily, her body rigid, still swallowing multiple times.

Her fear of facing the gazing eyes of the other mourners evaporated as Skyler watched her sister intently. "You don't have to hold it in," she said. "Let it go."

Marie's body began to rock as the sobs finally came, accompanied by a low wail that broke Skyler's heart. She held her tightly in both arms and looked at Flynn and Mrs Schrader ahead, just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and making sure her sister, who by now couldn't see or walk straight, didn't crash into any pews. She became aware of the eyes on her now, but Skyler just looked straight ahead.

Eventually, they reached the front of the church and the coffin and pallbearers processed down the steps to the waiting hearse. Flynn glanced at the disability access ramp, then determinedly walked slowly down the steps. Mrs Schrader walked faster to reach the coffin before it had fully entered the hearse, and she kissed her hand and placed it on the timber. Then she slowly and determinedly stepped back, tears flowing down her face. Hank's brother put his arm around her and the two of them and Flynn watched the hearse move away behind Steve's.

A black car pulled up behind it, and ASAC Ramey stepped forward. "This car is for you," he said. "Where's Marie?" he looked around. Marie and Skyler were still at the top of the steps, Skyler holding Marie as her body shuddered with earth-shattering sobs. Nearby, Ramey noticed a TV camera focusing on them. "Hey hey hey," he said, walking up to the journalist and putting his hand over the camera lens. "A little privacy, please."

Skyler closed her eyes and stroked Marie's hair.

Flynn was looking anxiously between his mother and aunt and the hearse containing his uncle's coffin. "I wanna f-follow Uncle Hank," he said.

"Absolutely," said Ramey, "You guys go ahead, I'll drive Marie and Skyler."

The mourners were pouring out of the church now, and being confronted with the spectacle of Marie and Skyler as they left. A few of them patted Marie on the back and said, "I'm sorry for your loss." At first Skyler was afraid to look them in the eye, but then she realised that they meant nothing but kindness. She thanked them.

Ramey called to her from the bottom of the steps. "Mrs White? I'm just going to get my car. I'll drive you two."

Surprised, Skyler nodded. Her own car was in the parking lot; she hadn't expected to be included in any DEA-provided transport.

Ramey took a good look around to make sure the media had gone. He didn't want them to film a known felon getting into his car - the DEA had lost enough integrity already. He drove the car to the bottom of the steps and sat inside it, waiting and trying not to look obvious. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he called Hoffman. "Make sure they don't start without us, alright?"

"Why, where are you?"

"Marie is having a little meltdown outside the church. Skyler's comforting her."

"Oh. Well we're just about to arrive at the cemetery. Can you hurry them along?"

Ramey sighed. "Alright. Can you just delay things? Just tell them they can't start without Marie."

"We need a pay rise for this, Boss, I tell you."

"It gets worse, a TV camera just filmed Marie bawling in Skyler's arms. If she gets public sympathy over this, we are screwed."

"Oh, shit. You widened the search for Pinkman, right?"

"To Canada, Mexico and Trans-Atlantic. It was already pretty wide." Ramey rubbed his eyes, and then he saw Skyler and Marie approaching through his rear view mirror. Marie looked very subdued, and Skyler had her arm around her. "They're coming now," he said. "I'll get them there as quick as I can, just delay."

"You got it."

It with the quietest car ride any of the three of them had ever been in, and Marie was the only one who didn't notice. She leaned back and looked listlessly out the window. Skyler held her hand. Ramey watched them through the rear vision mirror, trying desperately to figure out a way he could not be seen getting out of a car with Skyler White. Skyler rubbed all the fingers of her other hand together and tried and failed not to think about her now catastrophic level nicotine craving.

No-one said a word

As they pulled into the cemetery parking lot, Ramey deliberately slowed down so that he could cast his eye thoroughly around to assess whether anyone else was still arriving and where the TV cameras were. The answer to the former question seemed to be no; there was a large group of mourners visible on a hill next to the parking lot, but no-one visible on the path. He couldn't see the TV cameras at all. If they were waiting for them to start, the arrival of the late comers would be pretty obvious.

He was about to speak when Skyler saved him.

"Marie, I'm really sorry but I really desperately need a smoke. Are you ok to go on ahead?"

"I'll take you, Marie," said Ramey quickly. "I know where we need to go."

"Ok," said Marie.

Skyler jumped out and ran around to open Marie's door. Ramey held out his arm to Marie and she took it. As soon as they'd turned away from her, Skyler ripped her cigarettes from her pocket and lit one. She leaned on the car, dragging deeply. Her phone rang. It was Flynn.

"Mom, w-where are you?" he asked. "And Aunt Marie?"

"We just arrived. Don't worry, Marie's on her way to you now."

"What about you?"

"I'm in the parking lot."

"W-well are you coming? We're…waiting for you."

"You're waiting for Marie. No one's waiting for me."

"I am. Y-you're coming, right? You should...be here."

"How far away is Mrs Gomez?"

"That doesn't matter, sh-she gave you permission. We need you to be here with us. I can…see Aunt Marie approaching now, th-that means they're about to start."

Skyler could also see that Marie and Ramey were almost at the grave site, and she saw Marie stop and turn around, looking back at her. Ramey tugged at Marie's arm, guiding her forward. Sucking on the last of her cigarette, Skyler began to hurry towards the grave.

Marie's turn around had not escaped the attention of the media huddle. "Did you see that?" said one local news journalist to her cameraman. "Marie Schrader just looked back to make sure her sister was coming, and ASAC Ramey just pulled her away!"

"Yeah, he must not be happy about this."

The journalist Ramey had stopped outside the church turned his head. "He told us to stop filming Marie bawling in Skyler's arms, said something about privacy, but that's not the reason - those two are desperately embarrassing for the DEA."

"I love them," said the first journalist. "I wanna do a human interest story about them."

"You can't, they'll both be bound by the courts not to say anything."

"I know. I can bide my time until the trial is over." She turned to her cameraman. "Zoom in on the faces of the Schrader-White family. I wanna see what happens when Skyler gets there." She turned back to the other journalist. "Can we buy that footage off you? From outside the church?"

"Sure."

The other cameraman was filming Skyler walking up the hill. "She always looks like hell, doesn't she?" he said.

"Shh. It's starting."


	18. Chapter 18

After the burial, Ramey stuck to Marie like glue until he'd safely seen her into the car with Flynn and the Schraders and without Skyler. Marie didn't resist this because she knew Skyler wasn't permitted to go to the wake. Skyler gave Marie a big hug. "Call me if you need anything."

"We'll drive you home after, Marie," said Ramey, hovering in the background.

"Oh, how is Skyler getting back to her car?" asked Marie.

"Ah, I'll take her," said Ramey, again looking around for cameras, which he found looking right at them, and he again stepped forward to ask them for privacy.

"ASAC Ramey," said a Sky News journalist. "How do you feel about being forced to escort an accused felon as part of the family of one of your dead officers?"

"The DEA will be issuing a formal statement about the funeral later today. I can't tell you anything just now." He turned to watch the Schraders' car leave.

"If I may say so, sir, you do not look happy."

"I've just been to the funeral of two of my best agents, of course I'm not happy," Ramey snapped. "Mr Canterna!" he said loudly, spotting one of the DEA Fun Run sponsors in a group of mourners. "It's nice to see you again!"

Skyler slunk into the bushes, sat down on a rock and took out a cigarette. She hunched over double and closed her eyes. She could hear ASAC Ramey's voice talking kindly to several mourners, saying things like, "Thank you so much for coming," and, "Hank and Steve would be so pleased to have you here."

"Mrs White?" came a voice from the other side of the bushes.

Skyler looked up. It was the local news journalist and her cameraman.

Hastily blowing all the smoke out of her mouth, Skyler stubbed her cigarette out on the rock and stood up. "Not now, please," she said.

"Today must have been a very difficult day for you."

"Yes."

"How do you feel?"

"Not now, please."

"ASAC Ramey has been doing his darndest this afternoon to make sure we didn't film you, didn't film him with you, didn't film your sister with you. I think he's worried public sympathy will turn towards you and his case against you will crumble."

"I can't talk about anything to do with my case."

"I thought you took care of your sister very well today."

Skyler nodded, tears coming to her eyes.

Ramey saw them. "Oh god," he muttered and sprinted over.

"Come on, Mrs White," he said, grabbing her rather roughly and leading her to his car. She didn't have the mental or physical energy to resist. He opened the door of the car and pushed her roughly towards it, putting his hand over her head as he practically threw her inside.

"It's done now," he said as he got in the driver's side door. "Over. Hank has been laid to rest. This is the last favour I do for you or your family, is that clear?"

"No, what about Marie?"

"She'll get a pension. Nothing more is required." He threw the car into drive and took off out of the parking lot. "You will keep your head down and say nothing to the media because if you do, I will charge you with contempt of court."

"I know. That's why I didn't say anything to them."

"Good."

Ramey sped along the highway for five minutes, then turned in the opposite direction to the church and pulled over at the side of the road. "You can walk from here," he said.

"That's like two miles."

"Fine by me."

Another time, another way, another life, Skyler would have argued. But now she was having enough trouble just holding her head up. She slowly and silently opened the door and slipped out. Ramey drove off with a screech of brakes. Skyler turned and began to trudge slowly along the road.


End file.
